


Up The Ante

by MikeWritesThings



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, Day At The Beach, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, Face-Fucking, Flirting, Fuckbuddies, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Nude Photos, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Outdoor Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexting, Slow Burn, Strap-Ons, Trans Octane | Octavio Silva, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 55,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26434690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikeWritesThings/pseuds/MikeWritesThings
Summary: "Let's sayyouget more kills this match." He could practically hear the grin in Octavio's voice. "I'll have to do whatever you say. Deal?"Taejoon looked at his extended hand, before turning his back on him and scoffing."Deal."
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Octane | Octavio Silva, Wattson | Natalie Paquette/Wraith | Renee Blasey
Comments: 15
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii !! new fic, lots of porn, some plot, many Repressed Feelings(tm). hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws for this chap:
> 
> -some violence  
> -enemies to fuckbuddies, kind of. i wouldnt consider them enemies but oh boy does crypto find octane Annoying but also oh no he's hot  
> -hate sex?????????? i guess ???  
> -one(1) instance of name-calling, but not verbalized [slut]
> 
> EDIT: fixed some grammar mistakes and added a chunk of porn that for some reason didn't save when i posted the fic

Taejoon was used to annoying, insufferable, stupid people. He dealt with Elliott Witt on a daily basis, after all—it practically came with the job once you signed up for the Apex Games.

But he could at least acknowledge that Witt brought _some_ merit to the team, that he was _sometimes_ a bit clever when it came to the positioning of his decoys—and his cloaking technology was something he respected, as a person who liked to stay hidden. Even if he would never say it out loud, he could see the tiniest bit of value in having Mirage as his teammate.

( _"_ I've got you," Witt said, placing a steadying hand on his chest; he'd been shot after W _itt's_ stupid plan of attack had failed, but they remained hidden thanks to his cloak. "Heh. _Old man._ "

Yes. He would for sure never admit his usefulness out loud, lest he contribute to his already overinflated ego.)

But he could not say the same for all of the Legends, especially not Octane. Not Octavio _fucking_ Silva.

He was loud, brash, annoying, charged in without thinking and with little regard to whoever might see or hear him. He used his jump pad at inappropriate moments, alerting anyone with decent fucking vision of their team’s position whenever he sent himself rocketing twenty feet into the air. 

Taejoon hated these Games, but he was at least a team player—unlike Octavio who was a _bad_ fucking teammate, never listening to him when he had a plan of attack, not even waiting for him to _think_ up a plan of attack.

Octavio revived only when it was convenient for him—Lifeline, Bangalore, and Gibraltar were his top-priority revives, not because they were his friends, but because their abilities were beneficial to _him._ Taejoon’s style didn’t suit Octavio’s, and so he was often left bleeding out for their third to pick him up while Octavio snatched up all the good loot for himself.

Maybe Taejoon could have tolerated him if that was the extent of it. After all, he tolerated Pathfinder’s constant grappling and Loba’s coy style that relied on getting in and out of places quickly, a far more aggressive way of play than he was comfortable with. Maybe he could have tolerated Octavio if all he was, was a reckless idiot who rushed things and didn’t pick him up when he was down.

But Octavio wasn’t just a bad teammate. He was fucking aggravating. _Loathsome._ He never stopped _fucking_ talking, always joking or whining or _flirting, a_ nd Taejoon honestly felt like it was an insult to his intelligence to be paired with the man for a Duos match today.

Octavio seemed to think that they were friends—or, at least, was especially fond of ribbing Taejoon, poking fun at the name of his drone while he flew it overhead and calling him every variation of _nerd_ in the English language, with some bonus Spanish variations as well.

_("Ey, pringado," Octavio mumbled in greeting, leaning against Taejoon's desk to look at what he was doing at the absolute worst fucking time—today he was wearing a shirt with a low neckline and a pair of jogging shorts, and Taejoon had just spent the past few minutes trying to drive the image of him bending over to adjust his legs out of his mind._

_He stared sullenly ahead, trying not to spare the other man a glance in case he accidentally glimpsed down his shirt._

_"Whatcha doin'?" Octavio asked._

_"None," Taejoon mumbled, punctuating his every word with a click of his keyboard. "Of your business."_

_"Hey, come on, you don't have to be like that!" Octavio laughed, before ruffling Taejoon's hair, which had him jumping out of his seat and pinning Octavio's arm behind his back, annoyed by the unsanctioned contact.)_

The other man was currently doing his best to be a downright hindrance to his performance; either by looting everything before he could even look at whatever the supply bins were offering, or by snatching up his ammo while he was distracted only to tease _‘you can get it back if you can catch me’_. 

Taejoon had seen him play this game before: typically with Caustic and Revenant and occasionally Bangalore, in an attempt to get them to stop acting so serious, but he usually failed, and Taejoon was going to be no exception. He refused to give the other man the attention that he clearly wanted.

_("Nice, I like stuff like this," Octavio joked as Taejoon held his arm tightly in his grip, forcing his shoulder back. "Oof, you ain't messin' around."_

_"Leave me alone," Taejoon told him._

_"You're gonna have to let me go, first."_ _He shifted in Taejoon's grip, ass brushing against his front for a brief second, and he suddenly became aware of the fact that his cock was half-hard in his pants as he bent over the other man. "Y'know, you're pretty strong. F_ _or a nerd."_

_Taejoon shoved him away forcefully, watching the shorter man tumble to the ground with a yelp as he tried to play off the heat in his face as a result of anger. "Get out.")_

He exhaled in annoyance as he recalled his drone, deciding to just find more ammo on their way into the Ring—and if he couldn’t find any, the Ring happened to lead them to Lava City, so he could just use the Replicator there to make some more. He hardly ever used his crafting materials, but having a large amount at hand to expend on energy and shotgun ammo was going to prove useful with a teammate—no, _nuisance_ —like Octavio.

“Hey, amigo,” Octavio jested, flipping his Volt from hand to hand, unable to keep himself still, which wasn't a unique trait among the other Legends, but he was definitely the most unbearable. “D'you think Hack should go on a date with Sheila? I bet he’s so sad that you don’t ever let him out to have fun anymore.”

Taejoon ignored him, already walking through the buildings positioned around the Geyser in search of energy ammo. The only reason he hadn't swapped out his Havoc for any other weapon with plentiful ammo was because most of the guns he had come across so far were fucking _Hemloks._

“Ooh, I bet he’s grounded, ‘cuz the last time you let him out he got hacked. Heh, hacked. Hack Hack.”

Unfortunately, it seemed as though these buildings had been picked clean already, a few ignored shotgun bolts and sniper mags the only sign that loot had ever resided here in the first place. He sent out his drone again as Octavio kept laughing at his own joke, checking how many teams were in the area, and thankfully finding that they were alone.

“C’mon, why are you ignoring meeee? Is it ‘cuz I said there's no way you'll get with Nat? ‘Cuz it’s true. Caustic and Wraith would have your head, amigo.” Octavio was still following him around, which was annoying, somehow more annoying than the other just running off to do his own thing.

Taejoon’s teeth clenched, something Mystik used to tell him off for doing, but it prevented him from snapping at the other. _Don't give him attention._

The two of them hardly ever talked outside of the Games, anyway; they were neighbors on the dropship, but aside from that Taejoon was too busy hacking and being paranoid to ever involve himself in Octavio’s nonsense.

For a time, he’d even thought that the other man was attractive, with his narrow eyes and crooked grin, but any sort of attraction he felt towards him had instantly been squashed by the realization that he was Infuriating, with a capital I. 

( _No it hadn't,_ a little voice said, bringing to mind that time Octavio had fell into the Geyser and emerged, soaking wet, harness clinging to his thighs and water dripping down his abdomen.

 _Shut up,_ he told himself.)

Taejoon sent out his drone once more, sitting on top of his backpack to prevent his ammo from getting taken again. He flew his drone up the hill from Geyser towards Lava City, carefully observing the buildings there, keeping an eye out for any sort of movement.

Octavio was already jogging to catch up with his drone, and it was with an annoyed sigh that he realized another duo was already set up there, aiming down their weapons at him.

Exiting out of drone mode quickly, Taejoon opened his mouth to speak, but a deafening _bang_ sounded through the air, and the dirt in front of him exploded. Octavio had been shot at, but the sniper had missed as he zig-zagged, kicking up dust behind him.

Taejoon followed after him as he drew his Havoc, switching the firing mode to single as he took aim. With a few well-placed shots, he had knocked one of them, and Octavio threw down his jump pad before soaring high into the air with a laugh.

Taejoon gave an annoyed grunt as he moved towards the jump pad to follow him, but another _bang_ sounded right as Octavio landed behind the remaining member, and Taejoon fell down, pain bursting through his shoulder and clawing its way up his neck.

Groaning, Taejoon clutched at the wound, feeling warm blood beneath his fingers as the distinctive sound of a Volt firing filled the air. His face was heating up as he managed to roll onto his elbows and crawl through the dirt, vision a little blurred and starting to blacken at the edges. The thud of two deathboxes hitting the floor seemed to pierce his skull like a Wingman shot, and he spat out a gob of blood as he prepared to bleed out, unattended to by the worst fucking Duos partner you could ask for.

As soon as he thought this, a hand was grabbing his arm roughly and flipping him onto his back, earning a cry of pain as an ice-cold feeling shuddered down his spine. Octavio had come back to pick him up after all, perhaps because Taejoon was his only teammate this time around—he watched the other man prepare a revive syringe, humming a little tune to himself as he did so.

“Aha, betcha didn’t think I’d get you this time around, huh?” Octavio teased, moving Taejoon’s jacket out of the way so that he could jam the syringe into his chest properly. The pain and icy feeling that had been spreading throughout him faded, leaving him a little woozy as Octavio grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. “You’re welcome, bonito.”

“...Gomawo,” Taejoon mumbled, because he had manners, though he wasn’t going to give the other the satisfaction of hearing him say _thank you_ in English. Octavio cackled as he stepped onto his jump pad and went flying again, presumably to loot through the deathboxes before he could. 

Taejoon dug around in his backpack for healing items, but all he had was two shield cells for his level three Evo and one syringe. He stepped onto the jump pad as well (which, he would admit, was a bit convenient whenever he got picked up and couldn’t quite muster the strength to climb up hills yet), landing next to Octavio smoothly.

Hopefully he would find a battery and medkit, but as he picked through the deathboxes, he realized soon that Octavio had cleared them of anything worth taking—including all of the energy ammo they had apparently had, with their two L-Stars. Taejoon only had sixty rounds left, as well as twelve for his Mastiff, and this left him just as angry as he had been before Octavio had charged forward on his own.

“I need health,” he said, voice nearly a hiss, and Octavio tossed him one lone syringe before jamming stim into his thigh and racing towards Lava City with a shout of “ _I’ve got a vault key!_ ”

Realizing that the other man would not be of any help at all, Taejoon swapped his level three shield for a level two, not willing to waste his cells on a half-repaired shield. He scooped up the syringe, not bothering to thank Octavio as he jogged after him—though as he reached the cavern that housed the vault, he took a sharp left and entered an abandoned building, instead.

This building, he knew, had a Replicator at the top of it, and he could fix his ammo and health problem easily. Before he used it he sent out his drone, positioning it in front of the cave entrance in case anyone heard him using it and came running, before accessing the computer and inputting the data for a medkit.

He stepped back, crouching into the stairway that led to the top floor in case anyone heard him and shot at him, but he was in the clear.

Once his medkit was done crafting, Taejoon rolled up his sleeve and jammed the syringe into his wrist, glancing around as he did so, ever paranoid. The dull pain in his shoulder started to fade entirely as the medkit worked its magic, and he was nearly fully-healed when Octavio suddenly shouted over their comms,

“ _Ugh—taking fire! Ohhhh man, they’ve got Caustic, fuck!_ ”

Annoyance flared through him, as well as anger at the other for rushing ahead without him and frustration at his own lack of ammo and health items.

After a brief moment of internal debate, Taejoon slid down the building's zipline, quickly accessing his drone and maneuvering it just outside of the vault, where Octavio had barricaded himself inside, one of Caustic’s traps blocking the doors. The man himself and his random teammate were waiting, one of Caustic’s gas grenades in hand, ready to be thrown once given the opportunity. 

Taejoon exited out of drone view, un-holstering his Havoc and putting the fire mode back on auto as he jogged into the cave. If Octavio had gotten caught by anyone else, Taejoon perhaps would have left him to die, but he had unfinished business with Caustic, and no outlet to release his anger except for these godforsaken Games.

As he got closer he pressed a button on his control panel and Hack’s EMP went off, deflating Caustic’s traps and cracking their shields. The doctor wisely threw his grenade down in Taejoon’s direction, and he stumbled backwards, reaching into his pocket for a few frags to toss into the heavy green cloud.

He heard the sound of the vault door opening again—evidently, Octavio had been waiting for Caustic to toss his grenade elsewhere before making his escape—and then the sound of a Devotion going off, which was probably Taejoon’s least favorite weapon to fight against. 

His drone highlighted Caustic’s figure through the gas, and he fired at the larger man, though his shots missed, because Hack had unfortunately highlighted Caustic while he was taking cover behind an outcropping of rocks.

“Downed one!” Octavio sang, but then the Devotion went off again, and the other man cried out. “ _Fuck!_ ”

Octavio was down now, too, and Taejoon took a deep breath of clean air before darting through the green smoke, practically able to feel it stinging his skin as he emerged on the other side of the toxic cloud. Caustic threw another trap down, but Taejoon shot its base before it could fully inflate, ducking to avoid an arc star tossed at him.

Taejoon slid to his knees, crouching low as he peeked behind the rock he’d hidden behind and fired at the older man. Caustic fired right back, shredding through Taejoon’s new shield, and he flipped over onto his side as he reloaded, nearly swallowing dirt as he did so.

_I'm not dying without taking you with me, bastard._

He stuck his own arc star to himself, and then he charged forward, trying to make every last shot count—before the awful, hollow _click_ sounded through the air, signifying the end of his ammo as his arc star went off and took a chunk of his health, along with Caustic's.

Blood rose through his throat as the older man continued firing his Devotion without pause, eyes gleaming with anticipation at getting to kill Taejoon, but he _refused_ to die like this.

He had no time to draw his Mastiff; he instead tossed the Havoc aside, and in a final bid to stay alive, drew his fist back and punched Caustic square in the face.

The sharp _ding_ of Taejoon’s kill counter going up echoed in the air, and he was faced with Caustic's deathbox right before him, barely able to stand on his own two feet.

“Help, please,” Octavio said, not letting Taejoon regain himself for even a second before being annoying again. Taejoon ignored him, sinking to his knees and taking everything good from Caustic’s deathbox—the Devotion, his ammo, and all the fucking shield cells in the world.

“Uh, compadre, could use a little assistance. Kinda _bleedin’ out_ over here.”

Taejoon started to repair his shield, looking down at Octavio with barely-concealed contempt in his gaze as he contemplated picking him up. On the one hand, the asshole was annoying and had rushed in, twice. It didn’t matter if he had picked Taejoon up earlier, either—taking all of the energy ammo and health items was a grievance he wasn’t ready to forgive yet.

On the other hand, Octavio was petty; if he didn’t pick him up now, the younger man would never pick him up ever again, and would openly taunt him while leaving him to die in humiliating ways. 

Once his shields had healed, he popped another medkit before getting to his knees, pulling a revive syringe from his backpack and holding the man steady as he did so. He jammed it into Octavio’s chest, and no sooner had he pulled the syringe out did the other leap to his feet, already raring to go.

“Hell yeah, that was awesome! _Crypto v Caustic,_ a battle for the ages, eh? Put that shit on pay-per-view, I wanna see more!” He laughed, reloading his Volt, before adding, “I need health, by the way.”

Taejoon stared at him, wondering if, for a moment, the other man hadn’t actually taken all of the health back there—if that duo they’d stumbled upon merely hadn’t stocked up on syringes or shields—before he shook that thought off and decided that whether or not he had taken everything didn’t matter. He was _still_ an annoyance who had rushed forward and stolen his energy ammo, so he was pissed.

Taejoon entered the vault, just to see if Octavio had left him anything, and found a level-three shotgun bolt that the other hadn’t snatched up only because he didn’t have a shotgun.

Octavio followed him into the room, chattering away about how _cool_ Taejoon had been, walking right through Caustic’s gas like that, but Taejoon tried not to acknowledge him as he discarded his level two bolt for the new one.

It was only when he turned around to find himself face-to-face with Octavio did he open his mouth:

“Move.”

“Why aren’t you talking to me? C’mooonnn,” Octavio groaned, placing one hand on his bloodied hip. “Even Bangs acknowledges me every now and then.”

Taejoon bit back a response and drew two syringes from his backpack, throwing them at Octavio’s feet. He knew that the other would slowly regenerate the rest of his health on his own. “Let’s get moving.”

He entered his drone mode, intending to scout ahead in Sorting Factory, but he was soon distracted by Octavio tugging at his jacket sleeve, clearly unwilling to let the subject go.

“Is this because I said _‘Hack’_ is a stupid name? I’m sorry, then, it’s not stupid, it was just funny when that thing happened, okay?”

Taejoon spotted Bloodhound leading Natalie across the train tracks, and felt the familiar feeling of regret building up in his throat as he saw her. She’d been short with him for several weeks now, but it still didn’t feel right fighting her while in the Games—not after he tried apologizing, so many times.

He backed Hack up so that they wouldn’t get scanned and Octavio wouldn’t dart off to fight them on his own. He would give them the chance to run.

For now.

Exiting drone view, he saw that Octavio had used up the syringes, and was still listing off every single reason why he thought Taejoon would be mad at him.

“Is it ‘cuz I stole your energy drinks out of the fridge? Accidentally broke your chair? Said I would fuck you on TV?”

The suddenness of that last one tore a response out of Taejoon despite his best efforts to remain silent this whole game—“You _what_?”

“When I did that interview last week with Mirage and we started playing FMK!" Octavio said impatiently, as if he expected Taejoon to keep track of all his guest star appearances. "I said I’d fuck you, marry Pathfinder, and kill him!”

Taejoon’s first thought was that he wished he could have seen Witt’s face when Octavio said he would rather marry a robot than marry him—surely that would have been a blow to his ego, especially when Octavio also said that he’d rather sleep with him than Witt.

His second thought was, _He’d sleep with me?_

Which was a _bad_ thought to have. A horrible, _awful_ thought, and he didn’t know where it came from—except, he did. He so unfortunately did. 

Taejoon became hyper-aware of the fact that Octavio was leaned far too close to him, his body captivating even beneath the dim lighting of the vault.

He’d always _hated_ the outfit that the other man wore during the Games, putting the attractive curvature of his waist and stupid fucking abs on display, something he’d found himself distracted by more than once, much to his own chagrin—and this hatred multiplied tenfold as he found his gaze drawn to his bare skin once again.

Taejoon looked pointedly away from the other, trying to think of a way to get the man to follow him to the Tree without getting fucking killed on the way, when Octavio said,

“Man, what was that reaction?”

“What are you talking about?” Taejoon snapped, tired of hearing him fucking speak, and Octavio just laughed at him.

“Holy shit—are you _into_ me?”

Annoyed, Taejoon shoved the man out of his way, fully intending on storming out of the vault and leaving this conversation behind, but Octavio recovered quickly and blocked his only way of escape, shifting back and forth excitedly on his metal feet.

“I see the way you look at me,” Octavio teased, voice filled with unrestrained glee and something else—smugness, like a cat who had caught the canary. “You liiiiiiike me.”

“Shut up,” Taejoon told him, but evidently, he hadn’t denied it hard enough, because the other man cackled. 

“I knew it! I knew you fucking liked me, you kept watching me and I thought, _hey, I think this weirdo’s into me,_ and I was right!”

Taejoon scowled at him, not knowing which incident Octavio was referring to, but the fact that he had noticed Taejoon observing him at all was a very bad sign.

 _Okay_ , so he had watched Octavio occasionally, but that mostly occurred while he was half-drunk at Witt’s bar, watching the other man flirt easily with the other patrons, something akin to jealousy brewing in his stomach.

Jealous that Octavio could so easily throw himself at people and didn’t need to be as paranoid as him, or jealous that random people were getting flirted with by Octavio, he didn’t quite know. He just knew that it was a maddening feeling, and wanted to drink it away—and he _especially_ wanted to drink the memory of this conversation away, as soon as he won this godforsaken match. 

“Get out of my way,” Taejoon said, at the same time that Octavio asked,

“Can I suck you off?”

There was a pause in the air, so still and silent that for a moment, Taejoon thought he had gone deaf. But he realized that he had just stopped breathing, and when he inhaled sharply he hissed out, “What?”

“Right now,” Octavio said, and reached up to pry his mask off of his face, which left Taejoon feeling panicked. _Oh no no no he’s being serious_. “Look, if you’re into me, there’s no point in beating around the bush, man. Let me suck your dick.”

“Why—” Taejoon inhaled sharply, annoyed, especially by the fact that blood was already rushing south at the offer. “Hypothetically, if I _was_ into you—which I am not—why would I let you do this here? _Now?_ ”

“Don’t you feel that adrenaline surging through your veins?” Octavio asked him, eyes bright as he ran his hand through his sweaty helmet-hair. He was still bouncing on his feet, hips swaying with constant movement. “Didn’t it feel good to kill that old man?"

“Regardless of how good it felt to kill him, I don’t see how it translates into me getting my dick sucked in the middle of a _fucking_ game,” Taejoon snarked, and Octavio just smirked up at him, infuriatingly pretty.

"It's just a one-time deal. I'll even leave you alone after this!" He proposed, and Taejoon bit hard on his lip.

He hated himself for considering the other's offer, even for a moment. There was already heat building up in his groin, the adrenaline he had felt minutes ago churning into something else as he took in the sight of the eager Legend before him, and he couldn't deny that some small part of him had been attracted to the other for a while, now.

His offer hung tantalizingly in the air; a small taste of him, no commitment involved. A quick fuck in the middle of a Game, without having to go back to his place or step foot in Octavio’s. Nothing as personal as _that._

“Round two,” announced that familiar cool voice. He hadn’t noticed the Ring pushing up against the edge of the cavern, splitting Lava City in half as it did so. “Beginning Ring countdown.”

“Times a-tickin’, bonito,” Octavio teased, and Taejoon locked eyes with him, jaw clenching again. 

Perhaps he could blame it on the rush of a fight and the heat of the vault for taking him up on his offer. After all, nobody knew that Taejoon held even an ounce of attraction to the other man, and he highly doubted anyone would believe Octavio if he ran his mouth. 

The other man was still so, so close to him, grinning crookedly, the thin scar on his upper lip incredibly distracting. Taejoon took a deep breath, the heady thought of making him _shut up_ by stuffing his cock in his mouth tempting him, so he asked,

“If I let you, will you leave me alone?”

“Sí.”

“For the rest of the season?”

Octavio paused, but then nodded, grinning.

“I’ll even be a little more considerate of your sleep schedule on the dropship.”

Taejoon wasted no time—he grabbed the man by his arm, pulling him further back into the vault, not wanting to risk being seen by passing squads. He let go of Octavio, using his shoulder to shove the doors closed, sealing them inside the room. Hack could easily unlock the doors once they were through, so he wasn't worried about getting stuck.

When he turned to face Octavio, he was sliding his goggles fully off his head, tossing his helmet carelessly into the corner of the vault. Taejoon became hyper-aware of his cock straining against the leather of his pants already as Octavio shimmied out of his belt, hips swaying as he unbuckled the harness from his thighs.

Taejoon slid his jacket off, it being hot in the vault, before he leaned against one of the ledges and unbuckled his own belt to relieve some of the pressure against his groin, embarrassed by the fact that the other man had worked him up like this, but not really caring because if it got him to shut up...

Octavio laughed as he approached Taejoon, though he didn’t really seem to be laughing _at_ him—his eyes were trained on his crotch as Taejoon undid the button of his pants, taking a few steadying breaths to keep his composure.

Octavio reached out to cup him through his underwear, causing him to groan in surprise as his hips bucked a little at the contact; it had been quite a while since someone had touched him like this, and the feeling of his own hand couldn't compare to the sensation of someone else taking him into theirs.

“I _knew_ you were into me,” Octavio teased with a smug grin, and Taejoon scowled at him.

“I thought you were going to shut up.”

“Not yet, pretty boy.” The shorter man pressed his front to Taejoon's, and he bit back another groan, hands jumping to grip his waist. _Fuck,_ that stupid _waist._ “I wanna have some fun with you, first.”

“We only have a couple of minutes,” Taejoon told him through grit teeth, Octavio gyrating his hips against his, which felt _g_ _ood,_ but it wasn't what he had agreed to. “You do it _now_.”

Octavio gave him an exaggerated pout before laughing again. “Man, and I thought _I_ was always in a rush. Whatever you say, Kim.”

The usage of his fake name was nearly enough to take him out of his arousal, but then Octavio was sinking to his knees, hands sliding down Taejoon’s sides, before grabbing at his belt and sliding it from his belt loops.

He tossed it elsewhere along with his helmet and goggles as Taejoon gripped the ledge he was leaning against with his hands. He watched the other man tug his pants and underwear down in one go, down to his thighs, allowing his reddened cock to spring free, pre already leaking at the tip.

"Wow," Octavio purred, honest to fucking god _purred_ , and shit, it was fucking _hot_. Taejoon bit down hard on his tongue as he took him into his hand, breath hitching at the contact.

He could hardly believe that this was happening—that not ten minutes ago he was angry at the other man, in pain and reluctantly following after him, half-hoping that he would die on his own—and now here he was, in the Lava City vault, letting Octavio suck him off before the next round.

His heart was beating fast in his chest, and something akin to adrenaline was surging in his veins; not that he’d ever admit that, of course, because Octavio would truly never shut the fuck about it if he found out.

He didn’t think he could say anything, anyways—Octavio wasted no time in pressing his tongue flat against his cock, causing him to inhale sharply yet again and lean further back, jutting his hips out a little more.

“You’re so hard for me,” Octavio teased, thumbing his slit and smearing the precum there, and god, he was already so fucking... _Octavio._

Taejoon scowled down at him in response, though his expression quickly pinched when the other man took him into his mouth, running his tongue experimentally over him before pulling off and pressing a sloppy kiss to the head of his cock, which was honestly really, really hot, in a way that he never wanted to admit out loud.

Taejoon kept his eyes trained on the vault door, breathing shallow, but it seemed that they were isolated from the other squads, and Hack was hovering at a good interval between the three routes into the cavern—if anyone came close, they would get scanned, and he would have enough time to...

Octavio took him into his mouth again and he let out a moan, hips bucking involuntarily, causing the other to gag, but he didn't pull off.

Taejoon ran his fingers experimentally through Octavio's hair, feeling a little awkward gripping the ledge like he was, but not quite confident enough to grab the other yet. His breathing got a little sharper when he felt the other's tongue swirl around his head, sucking on the tip, before taking him about halfway.

He watched Octavio shift on his knees as he stuck one of his hands down his pants to play with himself, gripping the base of Taejoon’s cock with his other. He wanted to close his eyes and focus on the wet heat of his mouth, which felt _good_ —but Octavio felt the need to be obnoxious again.

“When’s the last time you had someone do this to you?” He asked, kissing the head of his cock and smearing precum against his lips in a way that Taejoon thought was unfairly hot despite his _everything else_. “It’s been like, two minutes, and you’re already leaking so much.”

“Shut,” Taejoon managed to say through his gritted teeth, “up.”

Octavio grinned. “What’re you gonna do to me if I don’t?”

He was clearly baiting him, trying to coax some sort of reaction out of him like he had been earlier—and Taejoon wasn’t going to fall for it. He _wasn’t_. He was above his stupid little games. He was a fucking _genius_ and Octavio was an annoying, selfish, entitled _brat_ who somehow always managed to get what he wanted, _including_ being able to suck Taejoon off in the middle of a match.

His annoyance over this came back again, and it only got worse when Octavio ran his tongue over his cock again before going back up and lapping at the pre gathering there. His hand was jerking Taejoon off a bit, but he was doing this far too slow for a man who supposedly liked doing everything the quick way.

Checking the time before the next round, Taejoon grumbled, “Can you hurry up?”

He would rather not get caught in the Ring with his pants down.

“For a guy so slow, you sure are in a rush,” Octavio complained, making eye contact with him. Taejoon took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down while the other laughed breathily against the head of his cock, rolling his eyes.

"We are in the middle of a match," Taejoon told him, but it came out more strained than he would have liked, trying to keep his hips from bucking forward.

"I bet _you're_ real fun in bed, amigo. I take back what I said about wanting to fuck you." Octavio twisted his hand in a way that made his vision go temporarily white, still jerking him off slowly. "Maybe it's best that Nat doesn't get with you after all."

Taejoon finally broke. Furious, he reached over to grab a fistful of the other’s hair, so harshly that he gasped as Taejoon held his head still, gipping the base of his cock.

He caught the way Octavio’s eyes widened a little as he positioned the tip against his lips, and after a moment, the man opened his mouth obediently and allowed Taejoon to thrust himself inside of him, earning a broken groan, his throat bobbing in a gag.

He didn't quite care as he heard Octavio choke a little, hand emerging from his pants to grip Taejoon's hips in an attempt to steady himself—it felt good, and he had _shut up,_ and that was all that mattered.

Taejoon let his head fall back a little as he guided the other even further down his cock, watching the way his spit-slick lips stretched wide to accommodate his girth. The wet heat all around him was enough to make his vision blacken again, balls tightening and nails digging into Octavio's scalp. _Fuck._

It was somehow better than he'd ever imagined it, and he had unfortunately imagined it a lot.

The itch of arousal crawled through his veins as he managed to sheath himself entirely inside of Octavio’s mouth, the other having relaxed his throat enough to take him all the way. Taejoon's hips moved slowly, experimentally as he pressed his hand against the back of Octavio's head, keeping him still as he tested this position out.

Octavio stared up at him as he returned one of his hands back inside his pants, sliding his fingers into his underwear to keep jerking himself off while Taejoon watched. He thought to himself, distantly, that this situation would've been even better if he'd gotten to fill the other man up, but Octavio choking on his cock was good enough, for now.

He observed the way that Octavio's cheeks had flushed beneath his freckles, an unflattering trail of drool at the corner of his mouth running down his chin, unable to speak or whine about the way that Taejoon was handling him.

Satisfied with the silence of the room, Taejoon let loose—thrusting his hips up into the heat of Octavio’s mouth, slowly, at first, taking the time to enjoy the feeling of his throat convulsing around him as he gagged again—before ramping up in intensity, heat building up in abdomen.

It had actually been quite a while since he’d slept with anyone, so he would probably finish embarrassingly fast, but it would be convenient for him, anyways—having a slow, drawn-out orgasm out here in the middle of a match wasn’t going to cut it. 

He straightened up a little, forcibly tilting Octavio's head back to accommodate this new position as he fucked into his mouth, the feeling of him hitting the back of his throat better than any dream he'd ever had about the subject.

His breathing started coming out heavier when he realized that he had been holding it in for a while, too focused on fucking precisely into Octavio. Taejoon brought his fist up to bite at his knuckles, keeping his gasps at bay as he tugged at Octavio's hair, earning a light whine from the man in front of him.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ it felt so _fucking_ good, and it was _hot,_ both in the room and in the way Octavio was taking him so well, the other Legend's hips grinding down into his hand as he chased after his own release. Octavio groaned around him, tearing up due to the harshness of his grip, mouth messy with a mixture of spit and pre as his hand worked furiously in his pants, fingering himself while Taejoon fucked his face.

" _Ah_ ," Taejoon gasped, before clenching his teeth hard and trying not to let any more noises escape him, his composure long gone as he abandoned precision. He fucked Octavio's mouth messily, so much so that he had to lower his fist, now using both hands to grip Octavio's hair to hold him in place for his cock. His mouth fell open again as he chased after the release he had _craved_ at the hands of the man before him for so long, head filled with white noise.

Heat was pooling in his groin, which was good, because they only had a minute or so until the Ring started moving. He imagined fucking Octavio even through the burning sensations that the Ring brought, wondered if he would even be able to cum through the pain, and decided that _yes, he could,_ so long as Octavio kept his mouth on him.

Taejoon moaned, heat building up in his chest as his head tilted back, throat exposed to the hot air of the vault. His hips snapped forward faster, desperate, as Octavio groaned again at the sudden intensity in which he fucked into his mouth.

The vibrating sensation around his cock ignited even _more_ arousal within Taejoon, who grabbed Octavio's chin roughly, pressing against the back of his head with his other hand as he thrusted into his mouth one final time.

This situation was bringing back memories of dreams he’d repressed where this exact same scenario had played out on the dropship, dreams that left him bitterly thinking of the other as he jerked himself off in the shower later that morning; they always started with the younger man finding his way into his lap, eyes alight with something playful, and always ended in Octavio letting him cum down his throat like the good little slut he-

Taejoon cried out as he came, nearly a sob, hips stuttering to a halt as he bent over Octavio, hardly able to keep himself standing as his thighs shook. His gasps turned into groans as he felt the man swallow around him, apparently not caring that Taejoon had cum into his mouth without warning, and _fuck,_ he could never hate the feeling of cumming in someone, whether it be in their mouth or anywhere else.

His head felt pleasantly fuzzy, and when Octavio pulled off of him the air of the room seemed cold and stinging to his cock, despite the overbearing heat he felt everywhere else. He managed to straighten himself up, gripping his cock and still trying to keep his breathing steady as he thought to himself, _That was good._

He peeled his eyes open, blearily watching Octavio, who was staring with glazed eyes at some point behind Taejoon, mouth hanging open as his hand worked furiously in his pants. He admired the redness in Octavio's cheeks, the mess Taejoon had made of his mouth while Octavio's breathing stuttered, eyes slipping shut.

The man let out a shout, much louder than Taejoon had been, and practically collapsed against his thigh, evidently having just came himself.

Taejoon tucked himself back into his pants and pushed the other man gently off of him, going into the corner to retrieve his discarded belt. He buttoned his pants back up and wrapped his belt around himself, sliding it through his belt loops with a bit of difficulty, hands a little shaky due to having just come.

When he glanced back at Octavio he saw that the other man had gotten to his feet, Taejoon’s precum trailing down his chin, which he felt a little embarrassed by, as he’d always seemed to leak more than all his other partners in the past.

“Hmm,” Octavio said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That was...kinda boring!”

And instantly, the pleasant haze that had nearly settled over Taejoon dissipated.

"Shut up," he snapped, throat a little scratchy as he finished adjusting himself in his pants, bandy-legged. "You said you would stop bothering me if I let you suck me off.”

“Yeah, cuz I thought it would be funner.” Octavio paused, frowning to himself, before sliding his hand past his underwear again. “Is that correct English..? Whatever. Basically, that was _boring_ , amigo.”

Taejoon sucked his cheeks in, trying to keep his composure. He should’ve known that Octavio would be _just_ as fucking obnoxious as he always was, and had merely said he’d stop as a way to get into Taejoon's pants. He was mostly angry at himself for ever believing him in the first place.

He stomped away from the other man and managed to pull the vault doors open with a bit of difficulty—he had panicked momentarily at the thought that he had accidentally locked himself inside with this idiot, but thankfully, they gave way for him.

“I’m going to the Tree,” he told Octavio, picking his new Devotion up and slinging it over his shoulder. "You can follow me or you can stay here and keep touching your dick."

He slid down the path that would take him past Sorting Factory, still intent on winning this Game despite who his partner was. He piloted his drone briefly to see if there were any squads in the surrounding area, but he was alone once again—which was good, because he wasn't quite ready to run yet, legs still weak from his recent orgasm.

He moved swiftly across the terrain, making sure to always move behind supply bins and rocks in case he was spotted and shot at. He heard the telltale sign of metal legs springing their way towards him, and sighed as he realized that Octavio had caught up, already chattering away about what he was going to do tonight. Something about a club. He wasn’t actually listening.

"And then Che and I-"

"Could you at least be silent for the rest of this match?" Taejoon hissed.

"Maybe if you put your dick in my mouth aga-"

Taejoon stuck his leg out and managed to trip the other man, smirking to himself as he screeched loudly.

There were three other squads left, and they ran into one of them on their way to the Tree—two randoms who had somehow managed to make it this far into the game without dying yet, though they both fell dead to Taejoon’s Mastiff and several of Octavio’s thermites.

The shorter man cheered, practically dancing around their deathboxes, before he became eerily still. He seemed to check something on his banner, before rounding on Taejoon and asking,

“Hey, we’re both tied for kills, aren’t we?”

Taejoon glanced at their kill trackers, and saw that this was true—three and three.

“How about a deal?” Octavio proposed, and Taejoon was already rolling his eyes. “I get more kills, you do what _I_ say. You get more kills, I do what _you_ say. Deal?”

Taejoon scoffed, already knowing that no matter the outcome, it wasn’t going to end up good for him; he highly doubted that Octavio would actually follow through on doing what Taejoon said, as he had failed to uphold the deal they had just made _twenty minutes ago_.

"Who's to say you will even hold up your end?" He practically spat out, shifting through piles of light ammo in search of shield batteries.

"You're a hacker," Octavio scoffed in return, kicking dirt up with his feet. "I'm sure you can dig up some gnarly shit on me. And if you don't uphold _your_ end of the deal, I'll tell everyone you pulled your pants down for me in the vault, or something."

Taejoon rolled his eyes to the sky, wishing that he was a more patient man without a temper. Wishing that he wasn't about to seriously consider another one of Octavio's ridiculous proposals, all for the chance that he could get him to _fuck off_ —but he was rather confident in his abilities, knowing that with Hack's EMP, he was more than capable of taking out whole squads by himself.

If he won, he was guaranteed silence and solitude, and if Octavio didn't comply, then he was correct in assuming that Taejoon was capable of digging up any sort of blackmail on him. If he lost...

Well, losing was not in his vernacular. He would not allow it to happen—and he supposed that, even if he did, Octavio was a fucking idiot. He would probably just ask him to be in his videos, or help him pull a prank, or something.

So Taejoon murmured begrudgingly,

“Deal.”

Octavio leaned against him, and he could practically hear the stupid, smug grin in his voice as he purred,

 _"Excelente_ , I knew I was irresistible to you!”

“Get off of me.”

“What’s the magic word?”

"I will fucking kill you?" Taejoon tried.

"Team-killing isn't allowed, but alright. Password accepted."

The Ring caught up to them right as they made it to the Tree, and Taejoon could hear the remaining two other squads firing at one another between the cliffs that divided the Tree from Thermal Station. He sent out his drone right as Octavio threw down one of his jump pads, already trying to scout ahead himself, and he huffed in exasperation as he piloted Hack faster than the other could run.

The two remaining squads were Bangalore and her random teammate, and Bloodhound and Natalie. A sinking feel occurred in the pit of his stomach as he saw her—peering down the scope of a G7 and taking potshots at Bangalore, one of her pylons whirring behind her, no doubt keeping her safe from incoming frags.

He could fire at her now—she had yet to take notice of him or Hack, too focused on keeping Bangalore's team at bay, but he hesitated, unable to bring himself to pull the trigger of his Devotion.

 _"Delivering care_ package..."

Octavio had found himself behind Bangalore’s squad, and the sound of his Volt echoed through the air as Taejoon bit down on the inside of his cheek. Of _course_ that idiot was going out of his way to get more kills to win their little bet. Of course.

He was just considering shooting Natalie once and for all when he heard a _click_ from beside him. “The gods have blessed me today.”

Taejoon hit the ground, hard, as he ducked to avoid the Wingman shot—it grazed the back of his head, but ultimately didn’t hurt him too much as he rolled down the incline he had been positioned on top of, already drawing his Mastiff from his back.

Bloodhound whirled on him, their axe at the ready, but Taejoon managed to down them with two panicked shots at their head. For good measure, he threw a frag before them, just in case they had a gold knockdown shield, and started to climb up one of the platforms beneath the Tree to get a better look at the surrounding area.

He heard Natalie pick up her pylon in the distance, as well as Octavio screaming over his comms: “ _Ahahaha! I killed ‘Nita! One squad left, amigo!_ ”

Taejoon checked their kill counters—Octavio’s count had only gone up by one, so perhaps Natalie had taken out Bangalore's teammate before Octavio could. Since he had killed Bloodhound, he would be tied with Octavio if they lost this match—but losing was not a part of his plan today.

Taejoon reloaded his Mastiff as he heard the telltale sign of someone zip-lining, and when he glanced up, his body stiffened. Natalie was coming right at him, face determined as she wielded her Peacekeeper one-handed. He met her burning blue eyes, and was, for some reason, unable to fire at her.

Not until Octavio’s earlier words— _if I win, you have to do_ whatever _I say_ —repeated themselves in his mind, spurring him into action as he unloaded a full shotgun blast directly into her face. 

Blood spurted from her head as her body fell down, limp like a ragdoll, the last kill of the game always the goriest. Victorious music swelled, brassy and triumphant, and Taejoon stared at where she had previously been, regret pooling in his stomach.

Regret that he had had to kill her, not only for his mission today, but to get Octavio to leave him the hell alone. He had won their little bet, and tonight, he would enjoy the silence of his room after he made the other pack up his things and move far, far away from him. But first, he allowed himself a moment of mourning. _I'm sorry._

Except, when Taejoon finally looked up at the dropship descending from the sky, he noticed something displayed on the banners next to it—his own face, grim and hard-set, with his little stat counter displaying _4 Kills_. Next to his banner was Octavio’s at the forefront, because he had been crowned kill leader at the very last second of the game.

Jaw a little slack, Taejoon whirled around to see the other man jogging towards him, a skip in his step as he carried a Kraber in his hands, laughing all the while.

“Did you see that, amigo? I no-scoped her! Aw man, that's gonna get so many likes!" Octavio threw his Kraber to the ground, already pulling out his selfie stick as he posed for some victory shots. "We won!"

Octavio peeled his helmet off, taking a few more photos, before grinning over at Taejoon, lips quirked up in a way that had ice creeping through his veins.

"But more importantly: _I won._ "

Taejoon’s mouth went dry as he realized just what had happened—the other man must have grabbed the Kraber from that care package at the very last moment, and fired at Natalie the same time Taejoon had.

Unfortunately for him, Octavio’s shot had gotten to her first. The victory kill.

Octavio elbowed him in the ribs, still laughing at his own success as the ramp for the ship dropped down, allowing them access to the medbay. "Y'know what this means, right, compadre?"

Taejoon couldn't bring himself to say it, still staring, hard, at the Kraber lying at his feet.

"You’ve got to do what _I_ say now.”

And just like that, he was running up the ramp, where a harried-looking nurse holding bandages awaited. Taejoon watched after him, hands buried in his pockets as he tried not to lose his composure in front of everyone else, because fuck.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i said there was lots of porn but thats next chapter i hope u enjoyed the blowjob tho
> 
> thank u for reading!!! dont be afraid to tell me how u feel, ive never written anything like this before!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WASSUP people here are your content warnings <3
> 
> -still kind of sour taejoon who is maybe not Very Nice  
> -one line about weight/comparing body image to someone else  
> -octane is a pre-op trans man and i use both "feminine" and "masculine" terminology for him (clit/cock/cunt/etc)  
> -one line mentioning that octane's hips look wide, sorry if this induces any dysphoria DX  
> -also, like, One Joke about a daddy kink

Taejoon had fought so hard to win because of the meeting with Jacob Young that was set to happen right after—it was the first Duos match of the season, and whoever won would become the face of Duos until next season, so naturally, the winners would have to meet with the head of PR and the head of Marketing.

He could tell by the fake smiles plastered on both of their faces that they had not anticipated Taejoon and Octavio winning. In fact—Taejoon was willing to bet, judging by the care package sent in Natalie and Bloodhound’s area, plus the fact that they were the only other Legend duo beside himself and Octavio, that _they_ had been the rigged, intended winners.

He and Octavio had probably only been paired together so that Bloodhound and Natalie wouldn’t stand out as the only other Legend duo, and they had probably been paired up _deliberately_ at that—after all, their playstyles were incompatible, and most of the Games they played together usually had them dying after barely making it to the top ten.

But Jacob Young and Gloria Wachowski hadn’t planned on he and Octavio getting... _distracted_ inside the vault, therefore preventing Octavio from rushing off to do his own thing and dying an early death—and they had won, as a result. 

“Wow,” Gloria tittered, placing her hands on he and Octavio’s shoulders as she steered them into a brightly-lit area filled with lots of cameras. “Crypto and Octane, huh? An unexpected surprise! But this could work, this could work...”

Octavio laughed along with her, telling her a joke in Spanish, and she responded in Spanish as well, so clearly they knew each other. Taejoon wasn’t all that surprised; Octavio was one of the darlings of the Apex Games, whereas he was...decidedly _not_.

It was probably why Jacob Young was eyeing him, untrusting from behind his computer, clearly displeased with his being there.

_That computer..._

“Where did you two disappear off to, anyways?” Jacob Young asked, standing up straight with his laptop in hand. Taejoon arched an eyebrow, doing his best to appear judgmental.

“Do you not have cameras positioned in the Lava City vault?” He knew they did, but Hack disabled all cameras within a hundred meters of its radius after a certain amount of time. A special perk he’d implemented to go undetected.

“They went offline,” Young said coolly as Gloria positioned he and Octavio in front of a big white backdrop. His Mastiff was shoved back into his hands as Octavio lifted up the huge Kraber that he had discarded earlier, the gun bigger than he was tall. In fact, it was nearly the size of Taejoon himself.

“You should get that checked out, then,” Taejoon told him coolly, and Young's lip curled.

“Relax, Jake, we just got stamped by Caustic,” Octavio drawled, and the older man's eyes flickered over to him. “We didn’t have any health, so this _slowpoke_ right here locked me inside the vault until mine regenerated all the way back. Trust me, if it were up to me, I woulda stormed those other squads _way_ sooner!”

Taejoon caught the minute way Young’s shoulders relaxed at this excuse, and bit back a scoff at how easy that had been. He understood that despite his best efforts, many of the Apex Games’ employees were suspicious of him, but he at least had Octavio on his side today to come up with a convincing cover story on the spot.

The photoshoot that followed gave Taejoon a headache with all its bright flashing lights, but five minutes in Young set his laptop down and left to go grab a cup of coffee, which he then used as his chance to slide the chip he'd hidden up his sleeve into its port while Gloria wasn’t looking. 

At one point, Octavio pressed his ass to Taejoon's front, leaning against him for one of the photos, which had his mind going momentarily blank as Gloria snapped another picture. Octavio then pushed away from him as if nothing had happened, though he knew that he must be smirking beneath that mask.

Taejoon focused on a spider's web in the corner of the room, trying to will his brief spike of arousal away, but his eyes kept wandering back to the way Octavio's harness hugged his ass and thighs, and _fuck, stop thinking about him, that's what he fucking wants._

They took several more pictures, both with and without their weapons, and by the time the shoot was wrapping up Gloria was teasing,

“And just one shot without your mask, Octavio?”

“C’mon, we’ve been through this, G,” the younger man said, a laugh in his voice. “I don’t let people see my face for free.”

“Think of all the marketing you could get!” She said as Taejoon slipped out of her sight, retrieving the chip. Young re-entered the room right after he did so, thankfully too distracted by his piping hot coffee to notice Taejoon stalking past.

Young recited something to them—how they would be the faces of the Apex Duos unit until next season, would receive their fair share of ad revenue, _blah blah blah._ Taejoon had tuned him out, and judging by the fact that Octavio wasn’t even _pretending_ to look in Young’s direction, he had too.

By the time Young dismissed them Taejoon was already halfway down the hall, fully intent on hiding the chip somewhere until he could safely look at the content he had snagged from his laptop, but he heard metal joints squeaking closely behind him, and bit back a sigh.

“Ey, cariño!” Octavio half-shouted, trying to get his attention, and Taejoon stopped abruptly, whirling around to stare him down. 

“ _Quiet_ ,” he hissed, but Octavio kept talking, as if he hadn’t heard him.

“Look, remember that bet we just made, huh? That I _won?”_ Octavio pulled his helmet off and tousled his own hair, flashing a grin up at Taejoon. He hated himself for thinking that the man was good-looking, even after the match he’d just spent mentally cursing the other out. “You’ve got to do whatever I say, buddy.”

“Can’t it wait?” Taejoon snapped, grabbing his wrist and leading the other man further down the hallway in case Gloria and Young could hear them.

“Nope,” Octavio said, popping the _‘p’_. He stood back and gave Taejoon a once-over, dragging his eyes over him in a way that made him feel a little hot beneath his collar. "Man, have you always been this hot?"

"Leave me alone," Taejoon said. "I don't want to deal with you right now."

“Why? It's not like you’re doing anything tonight!"

It was technically true—he couldn’t view the contents of this chip until the weekend, in the privacy of his own home, after all—but he would still rather be doing anything else other than entertaining Octavio _fucking_ Silva.

"Besides, I saw the way you looked at me earlier," Octavio teased, and Taejoon really wanted to fucking hit him. "I know you like my ass."

"I do not."

“Anyways, pretty boy,” Octavio said, ignoring him, and god he hated that fucking nickname, it felt so _patronizing_. “You owe me.”

“And what do I owe you, exactly?” He bit out, voice rising, but he quickly quieted when he remembered that Young and Gloria were just around the corner.

Octavio leaned up on his metal feet, pressing his hands flat against his chest, and Taejoon’s breath hitched at the sudden contact, surprised by how forward he was being. He supposed he shouldn't be, considering what had just transpired in the vault, but he still found himself feeling hot in such close proximity to him.

“I had to finger myself,” Octavio told him quietly, voice suddenly in a low register that sent an involuntary shiver down his spine as he realized how close the other’s lips were to his face now. “It’s not fair, y’know. I sucked you off, and got nothing in return.”

“What am I supposed to do about that?” Taejoon asked, and he meant it to sound far more biting and sarcastic than it actually came out—voice barely above a whisper, paranoid that someone would hear them, paranoid that someone would see the way Octavio was pressed right against him, and even worse, see the way his face was flushing dark beneath the dim lighting of the hallway.

Octavio grinned, as if the answer was obvious, one hand sliding down Taejoon’s chest until he reached his belt, and tugged on it sharply.

“Fuck me.”

Taejoon exhaled through his nose, looking to his right, heart pounding in his chest, either from fear or the proximity of Octavio, he didn’t know. Seeing no one, he reached over to grab the shorter man’s wrist again before leading him down the hall forcefully, hearing the short laugh Octavio let out at the way in which he was being handled. _Fucking idiot._

Maybe Taejoon was the idiot here. After all, his dick was already twitching with interest in his pants because of _Octavio Silva_ , grade-A idiot and nuisance, and he was also leading the man himself somewhere private for them to have sex, which was.

Fine. _Okay_. Maybe the other had been annoying about it, but what he said had been true. Octavio had given him one hell of a blow job earlier (or, at least, had provided a warm hole for him to fuck into) and he’d done nothing for him in return, which was unfair.

(God, his mind was jumping through hoops, trying to justify this decision, trying to make it sound like it was all in the name of _fairness,_ when he didn’t actually fucking _care_ if it was fair or not.

He just wanted an excuse to fuck this man. )

There was no way they could do this in the main areas of the dropship, so Taejoon took Octavio to some abandoned hallway that hardly anybody used, several stacks of boxes littering the area.

He himself only used this hallway whenever he wanted to make it to the lower decks of the dropship undetected, but it was an inconvenience even for his stealthy nature, as it was out of the way of everything else and he was prone to accidentally knocking the boxes over.

The only good thing about the hallway was the empty supply closet he’d hidden inside countless times, whether it be to ignore the noise of everyone else for a while, or to do something that he didn’t want to risk unwanted attention to.

Taejoon pulled Octavio into this supply closet now, flicking on the light, which was just a bare bulb hanging overhead, illuminating slightly-dusty shelves and the lumpy blanket he usually sat on in the corner. It was mostly clear of cobwebs, though Octavio did sneeze as he accidentally walked right into one.

“Well this is super sexy,” he said.

“We do it here, or we don’t do it at all,” Taejoon mumbled, taking his jacket off and piling it on top of the blanket. It was technically Gibraltar’s blanket, which the other man had draped over him once after he’d fallen asleep at his computer, and he’d been too embarrassed to return it afterwards, so he simply claimed that it must have gotten lost somehow.

“I wasn’t complaining! Just didn’t think you’d be into fucking in a closet.” Octavio kicked aside an empty soda can. “Probably your special masturbation closet, or something.”

Taejoon scowled, grabbing the man by his shoulder and pinning him to the wall, looking him in the eyes at arm’s length. “Do you want to have sex or not?”

“Sí, por favor,” Octavio hummed, voice dipping back into the suggestive tone it had taken earlier. “Love it when you manhandle me like that, babe.”

Taejoon narrowed his eyes, about to snap at him again. _You insufferable little_ —

But then Octavio was sliding his shorts down again, and his brain short-circuited, unable to finish the sentence as he stripped all his outer layers away, placing his harness and belt on top of Taejoon’s jacket along with his shorts. 

Nearly everything about Octavio’s body drove Taejoon up the wall in some way—a thin waist that made his hips seem wider than they actually were, thighs muscular and firm before they ended abruptly where flesh met metal. He was—as Mila would have immaturely put it—shredded, with his abs and flat stomach, which only made Taejoon feel overly-aware of how soft his own belly was. 

Sure, his chest was more built and his arms were more defined, but he’d never been able to achieve what Octavio had going on, and he was always somewhat obsessed with the way the other’s stomach looked whenever he twisted around or bent over. Once again, he wasn’t sure if this was out of jealousy or attraction, and he didn’t have time to think about it, hands already wandering almost absentmindedly to his own belt as he watched Octavio straighten up.

"Y'know I'm trans, right?" He asked as he stretched his arms above his head, unable to stop moving even in this confined space.

"I was vaguely aware." Taejoon had never given it much thought, and didn't particularly care about what Octavio had between his legs, but he had a guess as to where this conversation was going. "Anything off-limits?"

"Nah, was just checkin'."

“Turn around, then,” he said, and surprisingly, Octavio obeyed; spinning on his metal heel and jutting his hip out exaggeratedly, his athletic underwear clinging to his thighs and ass.

“Like what you see?” Octavio asked teasingly as Taejoon’s mouth went dry at the sight. “Now _hurry up_ , I’ve got stuff to _do_.”

“Weren’t you the one who asked _me_ to fuck _you_?” Taejoon asked, a little annoyed, but it was getting harder to think straight, harder to restrain himself from bending the other over and...

“Now you know how you sounded back in the vault,” Octavio huffed, crossing his arms and shifting on his feet, so that he was now popping his other hip. “But for real, I have a stream in like...an hour. So get it going, hacker man."

Rolling his eyes, Taejoon reached over, placing his hand between Octavio’s shoulder blades and pressing on him lightly until he got the message and bent over, placing his hands flat against the wall. Taking a deep breath, he slid his fingers past the waistband of Octavio’s underwear, tugging on it experimentally, before pulling it down to the his knees, exposing him.

His cunt was already wet, a slick mess on the inside of his thighs, and Taejoon was reminded of the fact that Octavio had cum into his underwear earlier. He hesitated before pressing his finger against him experimentally, running smoothly over his folds to see how he would react. 

Octavio sighed, his head leaning forward a little, index finger tapping the wall impatiently. Taking note of this, Taejoon undid his belt for the second time today, not bothering to slide it all the way off as he pulled his pants down to his mid-thighs. He wondered if Octavio felt awkward, being nearly naked while Taejoon was almost fully-clothed, but he didn’t voice this out loud, afraid to break the silence that had settled over them.

Taejoon spread Octavio with his index and ring fingers, heart picking up in his chest as he circled his entrance with his middle, watching the way the other man’s thighs twitched. He finally stuck one finger inside, and Octavio let out a huff of breath, glancing over his shoulder to glare at him.

“Dude, can you just—fuck me already? You’re so slow, I fingered myself earlier, I’m _fine._ ” He wiggled his hips back a bit, and Taejoon removed his hand. “You need encouragement or something? You like pet names? How about papí? Wait, no, that’s weird, I take it back—I’ll stick with bonito.”

“What does that even mean?” He sighed out, genuinely curious as he pulled his underwear down as well. His cock felt a little sensitive due to having come only an hour ago, and he gave himself a few strokes, holding his breath.

“Pretty,” Octavio answered, and even if he couldn’t see his face, he knew that he was smiling as he said this. “C’mon, bonitoooo, put your dick in meeeee— _uhn._ ”

As he whined, Taejoon had lined the head of his cock up with the other’s entrance, gripping him by his hip carefully, before thrusting forward, getting about half his cock inside him in the midst of Octavio talking.

He felt so fucking _good,_ far better than he had any right to be, tight around Taejoon's throbbing cock. He glanced up, seeing that Octavio’s fingers had curled a little and his nails were digging into the drywall, evidently having been taken by surprise.

Smirking to himself, Taejoon focused on sliding the rest of the way in him, a groan building up in his chest at the wet heat of his inner walls—Octavio’s mouth earlier had felt good, but this felt even _better_. He gave a short little exhale as he managed to get all the way inside, fighting to keep his head on his shoulders as he realized, _I'm fucking Octavio Silva._

“Nice,” Octavio said, and rolled his hips against him, causing him to grunt. “Now hurry up.”

Taejoon grabbed Octavio’s hip with his other hand as well, giving a few shallow thrusts, just to see how the other reacted, before deciding that he didn’t care. Octavio was wet, and he was horny—nevermind the fact that they were doing this because Octavio had bitched about Taejoon not doing anything for him earlier. All that mattered to him currently was reaching his climax.

Taejoon’s belt clinked quietly as he fucked Octavio, fingers digging into his hips to hold him steady and admiring the way his cock looked sliding in and out of his dripping pussy. He’d thought about this scenario before too, and had always imagined Octavio as a rambunctious partner to have, but he was surprisingly still and silent as he took Taejoon, if not occasionally shifting his stance or re-positioning his hands against the wall.

Which was fine, because Taejoon couldn't stand him.

Biting hard on his lower lip, Taejoon adjusted his pace so that he was thrusting harder, trying to really _feel_ the other around him, an electrifying feeling in his blood, which was all rushing down south as he drove his cock deeper inside of the man beneath him. Every time his hips snapped forward, slow and deliberate, he felt Octavio clench around him, which was _good._

“Mhm,” Octavio hummed, and his voice sounded thick, which was like honey to Taejoon’s ears. “Faster, please.”

The _please_ threw him off a little; it was the first time it had been said to him all day, not counting in Spanish, which often felt sarcastic and disingenuous to him. An idea sprung up in Taejoon’s hazy mind, something he knew he was going to hate himself for later, but sounded very good to him now. 

Though back in the vault his goal had been to silence Octavio, he wanted to hear him now; more specifically, he wanted to hear him whine and beg, at Taejoon’s mercy, as opposed to being the annoying, demanding brat he usually was. His hazy mind was eager to hear his voice break, to tear moans from his throat as opposed to all that annoying _chatter._

Leaning over the other, pressing his front to his back, Taejoon mumbled in a low voice, “Beg for it.”

Octavio snorted in response. “Huh?”

“I said—” Taejoon slid one of his hands down from Octavio’s waist, over his thigh, before finding his swollen clit, tugging at it and earning a surprised hitch in the other’s breath. “Beg for it.”

Octavio didn’t make any other sarcastic remarks, going silent at that—though Taejoon couldn’t see his face from this angle, he noticed that the other man’s ears were a little red, clearly flushed. _Good._

Taejoon kept his thrusts slow as he stopped tugging at Octavio’s clit, choosing to instead rub circles over his cunt, fingers already slick from how wet he was. He straightened up a little so that he wasn’t bent so far forward, each snap of his hips accompanied by the tiniest sound from Octavio, one he couldn’t easily discern, but knew was _there_.

It was really taking all of his own willpower to keep himself from losing control and fucking the other at a relentless pace, actively choosing to slow himself down. His breathing was getting heavier again, and with every thrust forward he felt like going insane, cock throbbing and begging for more stimulation, but he couldn't give up now. He wanted to hear Octavio Silva beg and plead for it instead of demand, gasp and cry instead of jeer.

“C’mon, faster,” Octavio’s voice came out as a sigh, a restrained sort of voice he’d heard in others when they were trying to keep up the illusion of calm, which just sounded plain strange coming from him. “I’ve only got—”

“An hour, I know,” Taejoon cut him off, a heady sort of rush taking hold of him as he realized the power he had over the other, even if momentarily. “So beg for it.”

“This is stupid,” Octavio groaned, head falling forward as Taejoon stopped his thrusts completely, though the other’s hips chased after him, trying to fuck himself on his cock. He grabbed the shorter man’s waist, keeping him still, which seemed to displease him even more, as he demanded much more loudly,

“ _Fuck me,_ idiota, why are you so _slow?_ ”

Taejoon just squeezed his waist in response, the very same waist that drove him insane, that his eyes were often drawn to in the most inconvenient of moments. He watched Octavio drop a hand down, reaching between his legs to provide himself some sort of stimulation, but Taejoon caught his wrist before he could touch himself, fighting back another smirk.

“Asshole,” Octavio hissed, and he was pleased to hear the higher-pitched edge that had steadily crept its way into his voice.

“Beg,” Taejoon hummed.

“I did!”

“Harder.”

Taejoon rolled his hips forward once as encouragement, and Octavio openly whined.

“Fine, fuck me, please fuck me.” His voice was the opposite of what it was earlier—no longer thick and low, but rather breathy and high. “Faster, please, por favor, I want it fast.”

Though still not satisfied, Taejoon continued fucking him, only slightly faster than before, but still plenty slow. His own arousal had died down a bit, the heat inside him having dissolved as he waited for Octavio, but the sound of him begging had brought it back to life, a flush rising to his face and neck as Octavio kept whining.

“Faster than that, Kim, please—” His nails scratched down the walls as he dragged his hands down, thighs trembling. “I want your cock, I want it fast, _please._ ”

"Harder," Taejoon instructed him, every single crack in his voice going straight to his groin, hot with arousal.

" _Pendejo,_ I fucking hate you," Octavio groaned, trying to fuck himself to no avail. " _Ah—_ your cock feels so good, so go faster, _fuck! Te deseo_ _!_ "

Taejoon couldn’t understand what he was saying from there on out, but he got the gist of it, the desperation in Octavio’s voice seeming to ramp up even as he started actively fucking into him faster, the other so wet by now that the slide was almost too easy, but that felt _good,_ properly fucked, and it only got hotter when Octavio cried out, half-sobbing.

“Ah—por favor—” His words were starting to slur together, hand between his legs again, but Taejoon didn’t care, more focused on achieving his own orgasm as he set his stance wider, lost in the sensation of the man on his cock. “In me, _god_ you fuck me so good, now _rápido_ —”

Taejoon swallowed down his moans, afraid to be heard, but that didn’t stop Octavio from getting louder as he clenched around his cock, nearly sending him over the edge right then and there. He was still begging, still trembling in Taejoon's grip, voice breaking every other word as he assured him _your cock feels so good, please don't stop, I want you in me._

Taejoon leaned over the other again, slowing down just enough to warn him,

“I’m going to cum.”

Octavio nodded, turning to look at Taejoon, face flushed and eyes wet, like they had been earlier. His lower lip was bloody, having apparently bitten on it before finally breaking and begging.

“Please,” he mumbled, voice low again, and it was fucking _hot_. “Inside me, pretty boy.”

Taejoon could’ve cum from that alone, but it took him a couple more thrusts before he spilled into the other, letting out a long, low groan that he felt more than heard. His fingers slid from the base of his cock to lightly touch his sensitive balls, before pulling out of Octavio slowly, breath coming out in gasps as he watched the way his cum pulsed slowly out of his pussy.

Taejoon had always enjoyed cumming in other people, found the act almost more arousing than the journey to achieve it, and this was no different. He stroked Octavio's folds with his thumb, smearing his cum around, and bit back yet another moan.

He could see Octavio still stroking himself with his fingers, thighs trembling, not with the difficulty of having to keep himself standing up, but with how close he was to his own orgasm. Deciding to be merciful, as the other _had_ begged for him in the end, Taejoon bent over Octavio again, pressing his lips to his exposed shoulder as he slid his hand over Octavio’s and started jerking him off.

“Fuck,” Octavio slurred again, fist braced against the wall as he moved his free hand to stick his fingers inside of himself. “Fuck, so much cum, I hate you. That’s fucking hot.”

His hips bucked into Taejoon’s hand, and it didn’t take long for him to reach his climax. He would’ve collapsed into the wall had Taejoon not caught him, wrapping his arm around his waist to hold him steady before pulling him against his front, helping him straighten up.

He didn’t know what to do now—if he should zip his pants back up and leave, or stay behind and help Octavio clean up the mess on his thighs. Some of it had even gotten onto the floor which, okay gross, he hadn’t thought that through, but he was sure he could find supplies to clean it up with. 

Suddenly aware of the fact that his dick was still out and was brushing against Octavio’s ass, Taejoon nearly shoved him away as he pulled his underwear back up. He tried to keep his gaze down, but his eyes kept travelling back up to look at the cumstained mess that was Octavio’s cunt and thighs.

Had he not just came, the sight of it alone would have made him harder than he’d ever been in his life, but as it stood all that happened was some heat in his groin and his cock twitching yet again.

 _Think of unsexy stuff_ , he told himself, closing his eyes as he buckled his belt. _Bloodhound’s bird. Witt. Jokbal._

Octavio straightened up beside him, having bent down to pull his own underwear back up, which didn’t seem like it would be very pleasant. He wanted to ask if it was cold, and if he needed Taejoon to grab him another pair, but he bit on his tongue.

 _We’re not friends_ , he told himself.

Instead he said, “That’s disgusting.”

“I can deal with it,” Octavio said, voice almost back to normal, though there was something else in it that didn’t sound the same, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. “This wouldn't be the first time I’ve livestreamed after some dude nutted in me.”

“Goodbye,” Taejoon said shortly, already picking up his jacket, fully intent on leaving now.

“Hey, wait!” Octavio said loudly, and he sighed, letting his head fall back in a show of annoyance. “About that bet—”

“What are you talking about?” Taejoon snapped, and Octavio raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, though it was hard to take him seriously with the huge stain on his crotch and the cum still leaking down his thighs. “I just fulfilled it. Our deal is done.”

“Not so fast,” the other responded cheekily, and he really wanted to punch him in his stupid, pretty face. “This was an IOU. I never said this was a part of the deal—just that you owed me one.”

That was... _technically true_ , fuck. _Why_ did he let himself be talked into things? Most infuriating to him was the fact that Octavio hadn't even needed to do much talking before Taejoon had agreed to it, too enraptured by the thought of fucking him after months of attraction disguised as hate.

No, not _disguised,_ he genuinely fucking hated Octavio, but there was a thin line between anger and arousal for Taejoon, and the other man seemed to be walking it constantly.

He scowled as Octavio picked his shorts back up, leaving the belt and harness discarded on the ground as he wiggled into them, face a little pinched, clearly uncomfortable thanks to the wet mess in his underwear.

 _It’s what you deserve_ , he thought spitefully.

“Anyways, our little deal.” Octavio pressed his back flat against the wall as he stared up at Taejoon, face still a little flushed beneath the lighting of the supply closet.

“What about it?” He sighed, deciding to just get this conversation _over_ with so that he could go shower.

“Saturday, my place.” Octavio pulled a little slip of paper from his shorts pockets. He’d already written his address on it in red ink, and he flicked the paper so that it hit Taejoon’s nose and landed at his feet, right next to the mess they’d made on the floor. _I hate you_. “Be there, let’s sayyyyyy, eight? No, wait, seven. Faster that way.”

“Be there for what?”

Octavio grinned, and Taejoon momentarily felt something warm inside his stomach before the feeling vanished as quickly as it had come. 

“That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it, cariño?” Octavio pushed off the wall, walking past him without breaking eye contact. You almost couldn’t tell that he’d just finished begging to be fucked and cummed in. “See ya there.”

And just like that, without any further explanation, he had opened the hall closet and let the door slam shut behind, leaving Taejoon totally alone. He stared where the younger man had once stood, jaw clenching as he realized just _what_ had happened—Octavio had invited him over, probably fully intent on sleeping with him again.

Unfortunately for Taejoon, he did not exactly hate the idea. This had been _good_ —annoying or not, Octavio wasn’t a terrible person to have sex with, and Taejoon had definitely had worse. What mattered was that he had achieved an orgasm, and the journey to it hadn’t been excruciating or boring. It had rather excited him, and just recalling the memory of Octavio begging for him while his cock slammed inside of him made him feel hazy.

Abruptly hitting his own cheek to snap himself out of those thoughts, he bent down to scoop up the piece of paper that Octavio had thrown at him, and was a little bit surprised by the other man’s handwriting—while not exactly neat, his address was written in cursive. 

Which, upon further reflection, wasn’t too crazy. Cursive was a faster way of writing than print.

Reluctantly tucking the slip of paper into his pocket, he cracked open the supply closet door and glanced down both directions of the hall, just to make sure that nobody was coming, even though he knew this place was normally left alone. 

Slipping out quietly, he made his way to the common kitchen, though quickly turned on his heel and hurried back the way he came when he saw Natalie.

She was perched on the counter next to Wraith, looking slightly upset that she had been so close to winning, but two assholes with an ongoing bet had won instead.

* * *

Over the course of the week, Taejoon had to deal with posters and videos of he and Octavio everywhere, being flaunted as Apex’s hottest new Duo—though he noticed that the way they were advertised was very different for one another.

Many of the videos featuring Octavio often included clips of him rushing headfirst into things, or videos of his own stunts that he posted separately from the Games; the things he was (in)famous for.

Many of the videos about Taejoon, though, were often clips of him just standing there, either in drone mode or looting, and the still photos that had been taken during Gloria’s shoot. It wasn’t that he never participated in the action, but it seemed like they were painting him as the useless one in the Duo, when it really should’ve been quite the opposite.

(“You are reading too much into it,” Bloodhound told him as they sharpened their hunting knife against a whetstone.

He had complained about it to them, having found them to be a good person to vent to, as they really had no reason to use this information against him. They were just as mysterious as he was, and that came in handy.

“What other purpose could this serve?” Taejoon sneered. He really _shouldn’t_ care, but at least it was giving him more reasons to hate Octavio.

“To be blunt, félagi, you are attractive.” Bloodhound turned the empty gaze of their goggles onto him, and he felt like they were scanning him. “Much of your fanbase is—forgive me—teenage girls.”

This fucking _sucked._ )

Not only were the advertisements annoying, but the chip did not give him anything useful either, though he wasn’t exactly surprised—he hardly expected Jacob Young to carry around invaluable Hammond secrets on his personal laptop, but it had been worth a shot. He was never one to pass up an opportunity, no matter how unlikely getting any useful information seemed.

He couldn’t afford to miss anything based on assumptions.

On Thursday Octavio threw his arms around his neck while he worked on his computer, laughing obnoxiously as he spoke to his audience through his phone, as he was livestreaming on some social media app.

"Say cheese for all my followers!" Octavio said, reaching a hand up to pinch his cheek, and he swatted the shorter man's hand away, scowling. "Say nice things for him in chat, guys!"

"Why are you bothering me?" Taejoon hissed, barely moving his lips as he stared hard at his screen. _Annoying._

"Because we're amigos, aren't we?" Octavio said, like that was obvious. "My brand new Duos partner!"

Taejoon bit back a scathing remark, choosing instead to elbow Octavio in the abdomen, earning a wheeze.

"Oof, okay, Señor Grumpy Pants wants to be left alone! Let's go harass Mirage instead!" And just like that, he was gone, leaving Taejoon in blissful silence.

Later, though, Octavio cornered him in the kitchen, a pout on his lips as he did so. Taejoon arched an eyebrow, not saying anything as he waited for his coffee to finish brewing. After about five seconds of silence the man crossed his arms childishly and burst out,

"That wasn't very nice, Kim."

"We are not friends," Taejoon said coolly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He would be needing it tonight, as he was going to be monitoring the activity on a certain Hammond employee's laptop.

"Says who?"

"Says me." He mixed in some cream and sugar, a rather substantial amount, because he couldn't stand coffee when it was bitter. "All we have is a deal."

"But—"

"There are no buts," he interrupted him, and pushed past Octavio. "Do not speak to me."

Unable to ever let anyone else get the final word in, Octavio called after him, "Remember! _Saturday_!"

Taejoon was finally able to catch a break when the weekend came, leaving him free to return to the solitude of his apartment. Well, he said _'break'_ , but it really just meant hacking without having to worry about someone breathing down his neck.

Though, solitude or not, there still seemed to be something hanging over him—the knowledge that, tonight, he would be over at Octavio’s place for whatever the man had planned.

At six o'clock he sat back in his desk chair, sighing as he eyed his digital clock, wondering if he should even bother going to Octavio’s. Sure, they had made a bet, which Octavio had won, but...

While not entirely opposed to the idea of sleeping with Octavio a second time, he regretted ever making the deal at all. The other man was annoying, he still stood by that, even if he was kind of hot and Taejoon had had (several) dreams about him before. 

Who was to say that Octavio wasn’t just going to set him up for a prank or something? What if that’s what this whole thing was? A prank? Was Taejoon going to be the punchline for some sick joke of Octavio’s? What if, when he arrived later at the other’s house, the man laughed in his face and revealed that this whole thing had been a set-up?

Taejoon wouldn’t put it past him. He didn’t know what Octavio saw in him, why he would want to sleep with him after he’d already had a taste on Monday. Maybe out of curiosity, but after that, surely Octavio had had his fill, right? Taejoon was not his type at all—couldn’t be, after Octavio had spent hours bitching about the way he played the Games—and yet the man seemed eager to invite him over, which was suspicious.

 _You are so fucking paranoid,_ a little voice in his head jeered, and he scowled to himself.

He supposed he could just...not go. Supposed that he could just go to bed right now and wake up in the morning, refreshed, not having to have dealt with that hyperactive asshole.

What was Octavio going to do if he didn’t show up, anyways? Blackmail him? Tell everyone that Taejoon allowed the other to suck him off in the Lava City vault and had fucked him in a supply closet? It incriminated Octavio just as much as it incriminated him—a double-edged blade.

But a part of Taejoon, larger than he wanted to admit, _did_ want to go. He’d been craving the contact of the other man all week after waking up half-hard several times in the night, haunted by hazy dreams of Octavio bouncing on his cock, whining like he had in that closet—and part of him ached to have it happen again.

Just one more time. Enough to quench his thirst.

He sighed, kneading his temples with his fingers as he fought back a headache. Heat was already pooling down below, cock filling out a little as he thought about arriving at Octavio’s place and putting all those dreams to rest. 

The third time would be the charm, surely, and he would have had enough of Octavio by then. Enough to satiate him until he found some faceless stranger to take to bed next off-season, no matter how paranoid it made him, no matter how anxious he felt. _Anything_ would be better than entering an official arrangement with Octavio Silva.

So Taejoon found himself outside the other’s apartment forty minutes later, squinting at the address written on the piece of paper he’d been given, before raising his hand hesitantly. He glared at the door as if trying to make it burst into flames—one part of him was whispering _just turn away now, he won’t ever know you’ve been here_ —before he swallowed the lump in his throat, and knocked.

No sooner had he knocked did the door fly open, and Taejoon stumbled back a little, startled by its suddenness.

Octavio stood in the doorway, a wide grin splitting his face as he stared up at him with eager eyes. He was dressed in a comfortable-looking pair of basketball shorts and a tank top with a shark on it, bouncing excitedly on his feet as he reached his hand out and practically dragged Taejoon into his apartment.

“Nice! You’re early!” Octavio sang, kicking the door shut behind him so hard that something behind Taejoon fell over and hit the floor. “I was just about to order a pizza, what kind of toppings do you like?”

Taejoon stared at him, eyes wide. He was not entirely sure if the other was joking or not. In fact, he’d half-expected Octavio to be tugging his pants down as soon as he came through the door.

Ultimately, the other didn’t even wait for him to _speak_ before deciding,

“I’ll just do alfredo.” 

Octavio then turned his back on him, pulling his phone out of his shorts and dialing the number for the pizza place. Taejoon watched him, disbelieving, before glancing around the other’s apartment.

It was... _messy_. Not that Taejoon could complain, because his own apartment was awful as well, but this was on a whole other level. In fact—it was more like organized chaos. Messy, sure, but the stack of energy drinks on the coffee table and stim syringes littered all over the floor, empty vials on the left side of the room and full on the right, spoke of someone who had least an order to their mess.

That was all the kindness he was willing to extend to Octavio, because as soon as he sat down on his couch he yelped as he realized he had accidentally sat on his butterfly knife. _Fucking ow._

He wandered around the living room after deeming the couch unsafe, eyeing the numerous gaming consoles Octavio had stacked against the wall, right next to what must have been about a hundred DVDs and video games.

Ninety percent of them looked untouched, covered in a thick layer of dust, and part of him wondered how many of those were old games he had completed already and how many were new games he’d never bothered playing.

Taejoon paused outside of a door that seemed to lead into Octavio’s room, but he debated entering it. He may dislike the man, but wasn’t so ready to invade his privacy and snoop in his room—especially while he was _right there._ He instead turned on his heel and sat back on the couch, this time making sure to avoid all sharp weapons that could stab him in the ass.

Taejoon’s leg bounced involuntarily as he waited there, feeling awkward as Octavio kept ordering pizza, though his voice was raised, clearly irritated by something. What, he couldn’t tell, because he was speaking in Spanish. He really hoped that he would hurry up, because he had no intention of staying the night, and wanted to get this over with quickly—the sooner he got back to his apartment and could sleep in his own bed, the better. 

He heard the sound of Octavio hanging the phone up, a distinct _beep,_ and then the other approached him, sitting on the couch beside him. His hazel eyes were bright and he was smiling—not grinning or smirking, but actually smiling.

“‘Sup, dude,” he said in greeting, and Taejoon frowned at being referred to so casually, as if they were friends, but it was Octavio’s home, and believe it or not, he had _manners_ , so he said back,

“Hello.”

They fell into silence right after that, not sure what to do, and Taejoon had been hoping that the other man would just get right on with it, but that was clearly not going to happen. He'd never been good at talking to the other Legends outside of the Games, and this proved to be no exception.

He stared hard at some point over Octavio’s shoulder, trying to imagine what the other man wanted to do—fuck like they had in that supply closet, or did he have something more adventurous in mind? 

Perhaps Octavio was waiting for him to make the first move, which was terrifying. On Monday Octavio had been the one to engage with him both times, which was honestly what he preferred—he liked being flirted with, rather than being the one to do the flirting. 

God, why did he suck so much at reading people? Why was he getting so anxious over having sex with Octavio Silva when they’d already done it before? Nevermind the fact that he was sitting in the other's apartment, paranoia starting to creep up his spine again. 

_What if it's a prank what if he knows about me what if..._

“Chill out,” Octavio laughed, twisting his body so that his elbow was resting against the back of his couch, facing Taejoon with a smile. “You’re so fucking _anxious_ , you nerd.”

“I am not,” Taejoon lied, leaning further back as if to prove a point, though there was still a stiffness in his shoulders. “I’m just waiting for you to get started.”

Octavio arched a pierced brow at that. Taejoon hadn’t ever really seen him with his piercings in, as he usually didn’t wear any during the weekdays, seeing as he had his mask on most of the time, but they worked for him. He looked good.

“Started with what?” Okay, so the other was going to be purposely obtuse. Annoyed— _that’s it,_ the little voice in his head encouraged as the familiar emotion made itself known again, _that’s more like it_ —he leaned towards the shorter man, watching the way his eyes widened as he got closer.

“Am I going to fuck you or not?” Taejoon asked bluntly, and Octavio bit his lip, which was. A weird reaction. Where did all that annoying overconfidence go?

“Do you want to?” Octavio finally asked, voice a purr, and _ah, there it was_. He scooted closer to Taejoon, not breaking eye contact, before moving suddenly and swinging one of his metal legs over his lap, as if in preparation for something. “What did you have in mind, pretty boy?”

“I don’t know,” Taejoon said, that nickname causing a strange feeling take root in him. Every time he’d been called it so far, they’d been about to do _something_ , and his mind was starting to associate it with just that—there was already a small tent in his pants, and Octavio seemed to notice, eyes flickering down to his crotch. 

He watched the other stare for a moment, before Octavio’s lips turned up at the corners, roguish, and the next thing he knew the other man was pulling himself into his lap, using the leg he'd swung over to help him settle on Taejoon’s thighs.

“I think we should make out,” Octavio breathed against his lips, tone playful as his hands took hold of Taejoon’s face, which had flushed at their sudden proximity.

 _We should not_ , Taejoon thought to himself, because he didn’t want to. He wasn’t very prudish about who he kissed, but he _definitely_ did not want to kiss Octavio _fucking_ Silva, that loud-mouthed, shit-talking, whiny—

It was a fruitless struggle with himself, he knew, especially because he immediately gave up the fight as soon as Octavio pressed his lips against his, tilting his head with his hand forcefully as he did so. 

Taejoon had imagined kissing Octavio before, but not very often. It usually only happened when he was most delirious, cum spurting into his hands in the shower as he thought about grabbing the other’s black hair and pulling his head back to crash their mouths together; a frenzied thought born out of arousal, not for any actual desire to kiss the man, but...

This was fine. Not _bad_ by any means. Good, he would even admit, as Octavio slipped his tongue into his parted mouth, which was really fucking hot when done right, and god, Octavio was doing it right. 

His hands had steadied themselves on the man's hips, just to give himself something to do, but as Octavio kept pulling his head to the side he slid one hand down further, past the waistband of his basketball shorts to grip his ass tightly. Octavio had a nice ass, firm from years of running, and he kneaded his fingers into the flesh there, which earned him a short gasp against his lips that gave him enough time to break away for some much-needed air.

It was starting to get a little uncomfortable with his cock hard in his pants for what felt like the nth time this week, but Octavio shifted on his lap as he pulled away from Taejoon for a brief second, lips swollen and eyes blown. He watched the other shift purposely so that his own crotch was aligned with Taejoon’s, before he surged forward to kiss him again, now rolling his hips down on his.

Groaning at the much-needed friction, Taejoon grabbed a fistful of Octavio’s hair with his free-hand, pulling on it as he tried positioning his head to slot his mouth with Octavio's better—but the other man let out a raspy moan as he pulled, and _fuck_ , that sent electricity down Taejoon's spine, his arousal mounting.

Taejoon used his finger on the hand gripping Octavio’s ass to slip past his boxers through one of its legs, providing quick access to the other’s cunt, which was already trembling as they dry-humped on his couch, which felt so, _so_ juvenile to him, but also so, _so_ good.

Octavio slid his hands through Taejoon’s hair, and then suddenly, forcefully, yanked his head back, exposing his neck to him. Momentary panic made Taejoon stiffen up, but he instantly relaxed as the man in his lap pressed his wet mouth to the column of his throat, sucking messy kisses there that had his skin heating up beneath his touch.

No longer so focused on kissing, Taejoon moved both his hands to grip Octavio’s waist again, thrusting his hips upwards weakly as he tried to gain more friction against his cock. There was already a dark gray stain at the front of Octavio’s basketball shorts, and he wanted so badly to fuck into the wet heat that was just a few centimetres away from him, protected by layers of clothing.

Octavio straightened back up as if reading his mind, his eyes narrowed as his fingers danced along Taejoon’s chest. “You know how to eat pussy?”

“What?” He asked, breathless and not quite processing the question, mourning the loss of contact on his neck.

“I’m asking you to eat me out,” Octavio said, kissing him again before pulling back quickly. “Lay down. Now.”

Taejoon was surprised at the way in which his body responded, quickly and obediently following the other man’s command as he swung his legs up on the couch. Octavio slid off of him, allowing him room to lay on his back—but first Taejoon took off his shirt, body feeling far too hot now.

“Nice,” Octavio hummed, eyeing his chest, before shucking aside his own shorts and underwear without much ceremony. His tiny cock was fully hard, a wet mess coating the insides of his thighs as he swung his leg over Taejoon, metal foot resting at some point beside his bicep. “Again—have you ever eaten pussy before?”

“Once or twice,” Taejoon mumbled, trying not to stare at the other’s crotch, but it was hard not to, as it was literally right in front of his face.

Most of his past partners had been cis men or at least had penises, and his first ever interaction with a clitoris had been when he’d fingered the person he’d picked up in a club on his twenty-first birthday. They’d guided him through eating them out later, but it had been a decade since then and he wasn’t sure if he’d retained any of that information. He wasn’t _opposed_ to the idea, though—his cock was throbbing, and just about anything sounded good right now as long as he got to touch himself.

“Works for me,” Octavio said, and half-hopped onto the couch, knee now planted on the cushion beside Taejoon. The other man then lowered himself eagerly on his face without much ceremony, using his fingers to spread himself for him.

Taejoon braced one hand against Octavio’s thigh as he carefully took his clit into his mouth, surprised by the way Octavio’s head was instantly thrown back, a stuttering “ _fuck_ ” erupting from his chest. Taking this as encouragement, he closed his eyes to make himself feel a little less awkward, tonguing along his folds.

It really had been quite a while since he'd last done this, and certainly never at _this_ angle, but he didn't hate it—especially after Octavio gasped, sending a tingling feeling through his scalp. Taejoon readjusted his grip on his thigh, trying to spread Octavio wider as his own hips bucked up, aching cock seeking friction, still wanting to fuck into something warm.

The other lowered himself even further after a few minutes, giving Taejoon easier access to slip his tongue inside him, and he was rewarded with Octavio's thighs trembling beside his head as he gasped again, hips canting forward. His head was thrown back, exposing the attractive line of his throat as he rolled his hips down on him, clit brushing against Taejoon's upper lip.

He managed to pull his own pants down a little, having worn a pair that wouldn’t require the hassle of a belt and zipper. His own cock came free after some fumbling with his underwear, and he could've cried out in relief had his mouth not been occupied with eating the other man out.

Octavio was panting now, heat gathering in his groin as Taejoon fucked his tongue into him, stroking his cock with his free hand. Precum was leaking almost excessively at its tip from their earlier dry-humping, but that just made the slide of his fist easier, and his cock throbbed beneath his touch when Octavio next spoke.

"That's it, pretty boy," he coaxed, voice soft and encouraging, but breathless at the same time. He was carding his fingers through Taejoon's hair as he fucked down on his tongue, surprisingly gentle, considering who he was. "Just like that."

Taejoon tilted his head, curling his tongue a little, still feeling inexperienced and unsure, but Octavio's words were all the encouragement he needed to keep going. Hearing a short _"ah_ ", he opening his eyes to see that the other man's face was red and sweaty, chest heaving as he gripped the couch with his free hand.

Octavio let out a cry as he did this again, and the way his spit-slick lips parted open in a whine was _really_ fucking hot. He felt like he’d been thinking that a lot, recently—that everything the man above him did was infuriatingly hot. Octavio was panting sharply as he gasped out,

“Fuck, stay right there, fuck—”

He felt a hand grip his hair, keeping him steady as Octavio rode his face, his other knee now on the couch as well, perched precariously as he fucked himself down on Taejoon's tongue. He considered taking his hand off of his thigh to finger his dripping cunt, but he didn't want to unbalance him, and he seemed perfectly content as it was.

Taejoon lapped his tongue over the other’s dick to see what kind of reaction it would get him, and the man above him shouted something in Spanish—or maybe not even Spanish, but rather, an unintelligible mess of words that barely resembled any sort of human language—before reverting back to English.

" _Fuck,_ where'd you learn to eat pussy like that you fucking _nerd,_ you've been holding out on me," Octavio groaned, and Taejoon’s hips bucked up into his hand as he twisted it over the head of his aching cock, slick with pre.

Octavio pressed himself somehow even further onto Taejoon’s mouth, which he didn’t mind. His stomach felt slick and his hand was coated in his own mess, but nothing could compare to the wetness against his face, soaking and drenching his facial plating with how aroused Octavio was, pussy trembling.

It was _enjoyable_ to have Octavio fall apart because of him, that confident, brash attitude collapsing as he desperately rutted against his mouth, chasing his own release. He tasted almost sweet on Taejoon's tongue, and after some careful consideration he let go of his cock to help hold Octavio steady while he used his other hand to slip his fingers inside him.

Octavio was fucking down on both his face and fingers now, eyes shut and drooling as he rutted against Taejoon. He was repeating Taejoon's fake name over and over, and unlike when he had said it the other day, this time it made arousal surge through his veins, knowing that he was making him see stars. Crooking his fingers inside the younger man, he watched Octavio's body shudder in response, his hips stuttering in their movement because of it.

"I'm gonna cum," Octavio whined, the rhythym of his hips now lost to desperation as he raised his hand to his mouth, halfheartedly trying to muffle his voice. "Fuck, keep doing that, _fuck!_ "

Taejoon thrusted his fingers inside him, sucking on his cock—and then Octavio finally came, explosive, far more explosive than it had been on Monday. Taejoon’s lower face was drenched, fingers still pressed inside of him as Octavio’s body shook, his stomach fluttering as he let out a moan that Taejoon had only ever heard in _porn._

He then proceeded to bury his face in the elbow he’d braced against the back of his couch; his voice had gotten high-pitched and _squeaky_ at the very end, and he seemed rather embarrassed by it.

Taejoon was left free to focus on getting himself off, sliding one hand over his chest in the way he liked, the other returning to cock. Unabashed groans were falling from his lips now—he had held back far too much on Monday, and in the privacy of Octavio’s home he didn’t feel the need to swallow everything down as he had before. Back arching, the heat in his stomach was nearly intolerable, body tensed as he chased release.

Octavio rolled off the couch, telling Taejoon something, but he didn’t exactly hear what—he didn’t need to, though, because a hand was suddenly wrapping itself around his cock for him, and then the tip of it was resting against a tongue, hot and heavy. Octavio had taken him into his mouth, and no sooner did this realization hit him did he cry out and throw his forearm over his eyes, the build-up in him nearly reaching its breaking point.

He gasped, panting as Octavio sucked him off, for _real_ this time—not just him fucking the other’s face, not just the man running his tongue teasingly along his shaft, but actually blowing him. He moaned, pinching one of his nipples between two fingers as he felt Octavio's tongue swirl around his head, little electric pulses thrumming beneath his skin.

He managed to peel his eyes open long enough to watch Octavio’s head bob, cock sliding past his lips with practiced ease as he did so, before his vision was going white and he was cumming with another shout.

Octavio swallowed around him, because of fucking course he did, and his hand was still jerking him off despite how sensitive his cock felt, slick with his own pre. Taejoon groaned, reaching over to bat at Octavio halfheartedly, and he thankfully got the message, sitting back on his haunches and staring at Taejoon with something like a smirk on his face, which should be _maddening_ but there was a mixture of spit and cum on his lower lip that just made Taejoon want to bend him over and fuck him like he had the other day.

Still feeling somewhat heated, Taejoon sat up, ignoring the small pool of precum that had gathered on his stomach as he grabbed the back of Octavio's head and pulled him in for a biting kiss. He didn't hate tasting himself on the other, found it rather arousing, but it was strange, salty, as Octavio parted his lips for him.

Octavio's hands jumped to brace themselves on his biceps as he leaned into him, climbing back onto the couch. Taejoon wouldn't mind going for another round, still aroused as the other man started rutting against his thigh, leaving a slick wet mess that left him desperate to fuck into his pussy again They just had to wait a couple of minutes before Taejoon could get hard again, and then...

A sudden knock came on Octavio's door and they tore away from one another as if they had been caught. They stared each other with wide eyes before the younger man's face lit up, and he announced,

"Pizza's here!"

He stood up and rushed towards the front door, legs creaking, and Taejoon mustered enough energy to warn loudly,

"Octavio, _your pants._ "

Octavio scrambled around his apartment at these words, searching for his discarded basketball shorts—eventually finding them strewn across his dining table, where he had tossed them. Taejoon himself pulled his own pants back up, tilting his upper body out of view from the front door, wincing at the slick mess on his abdomen from when his cock had leaked.

Octavio opened the door, his shorts on backwards as he started chatting away with the delivery woman. Soon enough he was stepping over to Taejoon with a large pizza box in hand, setting it down on his messy coffee table and shoving some of the empty styrofoam cups off.

"Food time," Octavio hummed, getting on his knees to flip the box open, and Taejoon snorted at how quickly the other man's attention had switched between kissing him on the couch and the arrival of pizza. He hesitated, wondering if he should indulge himself, before his aching stomach rumbled and he decided, why the hell not. 

Taejoon ate in silence as he stared at the wall, lost in thought and eyes glazed over, tired. Though he had been the one doing most of the work for himself and Octavio had only taken him into his mouth at the very last second, this had still been good. He'd enjoyed eating Octavio out, his encouraging words and gasping breaths going straight down south for him, making his scalp tingle with pleasure as he had sucked the other's cock. 

There was still the thrum of arousal beneath the surface of his skin, so after he finished his slice of pizza he asked Octavio,

"What now?"

Octavio glanced up from his phone, his face still a little pink, and he echoed, "What now?"

"Are we done here?"

"I dunno, are we?"

Faintly annoyed, Taejoon began, "If you—"

"I do," Octavio cut him off, picking up two slices of pizza at once and stacking them on top of each other, the cheesy sides smushed together to create an awful sandwich. "Stay the night, cariño. I could go for a round two."

Taejoon crossed his arms over his bare chest, letting his head fall back as he considered his offer. He'd come here planning to one-and-done it, but they hadn't really done anything, and...he wanted to. He didn't want to spend the night here, but it was tempting to him, belly heating up now that he had been fed and was getting aroused again. 

He was afraid that if he accepted this proposition then it would become a regular occurrence—that if Octavio offered himself to him again tomorrow, he wouldn't be able to resist, and this cycle would continue until they were something more than acquaintances. He didn't want to let anyone close to him, but he'd already failed on that part. The least he could do was make sure that it didn't happen again.

Crossing one leg over the other to hide his slowly-growing erection, Taejoon said,

"We can't let this become a thing."

"I never said it would, did I?" Octavio glanced at him. "Sounds like you're thinkin' about it, though."

 _Fuck._ "I am not."

"It's okay to admit that you want me." Octavio smirked, speaking around a mouthful of pizza. "I want you too. I like your dick."

Taejoon had to cough into his hand to hide a half-startled laugh. "You keep insisting that I'm attracted to you, but you're just annoying."

"I know I'm attractive to you. You have come inside me at least three times now."

Okay, _no he hasn't,_ not unless you counted the blow jobs, but...

Fuck, he had him there.

"Hear me out," Octavio said, wiping his greasy hands against his basketball shorts, which was gross, but they were dirty anyways from when they'd made out earlier. "We don't have to date or anything, Kim. Just...fuck, every now and then. No strings attached! Just me, you, and your nice cock."

"Shut the fuck up."

"And my smackin' pussy, of course."

"I said shut up," Taejoon snapped, but it wasn't as biting as it normally was. Octavio had stood up, and was now bent over, face right next to his which sent a shiver down his spine as he felt his breath against his ear:

"So...deal or no deal?"

Taejoon's fingers curled against his thighs as he held his own breath, trying to reason with himself. Regardless of whether the sex was good or not, this was Octavio Fucking Silva, with a capital F, who wouldn't know the meaning of security or secrecy if it bit him in the ass. He expected Octavio to blab about this arrangement to anyone who would listen, and he couldn't afford all of the extra attention on himself, not when he had shit to do. He could hardly expect to be a private person if the whole world knew that he was sleeping with Octane, beloved (and idiotic) daredevil.

But at the same time, this had been fucking _good_. He could see the pros of entering an arrangement like this: sex practically guaranteed, no more scouring bars and seedy alleyways, searching for someone who was boring and plain, someone who wouldn't try to stab him in the back.

Finding partners was hard when you were paranoid; always looking for someone dispensable, having to run thorough background checks on men he intended on sleeping with once and then never seeing ever again. 

He _knew_ Octavio, had researched every single Legend before joining, knew that the shadiest thing Octavio had on his hands was his methods of obtaining stim from his father's company. Aside from the possibility of him telling others that they were sleeping together, there was really no risk with him, and sex didn't have to feel like a chore with boxes for him to tick before he could have it.

Sex could just be _sex_ , and having a consistent partner he could trust would be convenient.

They didn't have to date, like Octavio had said. Just...fuck.

Taejoon met his hazel eyes, knowing that the other man had been watching him, foot tapping the floor in front of the couch impatiently. He stared at him, thinking it over one more time— _idiot, but sexy idiot. Loud-mouthed idiot, but an idiot I know_ —before saying,

"Deal."

A grin split across Octavio's face, and Taejoon found his cheeks flushing as the shorter man climbed into his lap, apparently eager to get started already.

"I knew you'd say that, pretty boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me planning this fic: haha . porn time
> 
> me halfway through: oh no Plot Time
> 
> sorry for this absolute MONSTROUS chapter but stay tuned for next chapter!!! if all goes according to plan, we should get the apex legends Beach Episode(tm) with some darksparks and miragehound to spice things up!
> 
> i also hurt my wrist while writing and require a brace for it bc im In Pain but :,) hopefully it should be out soon.
> 
> don't be afraid to leave a comment!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SCREAMS BECAUSE I ACCIDENTALLY PUBLISHED THIS CHAPTER INSTEAD OF SAVING IT AS A DRAFT FOR 12 WHOLE HOURS WITHOUT REALIZING
> 
> HI
> 
> ITS FINISHED NOW
> 
> tws for this chapter:  
> -still using "feminine" and "masculine" terms for octane  
> -octane does not have top surgery in this fic and this chapter deals with a.) taejoon as a cis gay man dealing w that for the first time and not rly knowing what is the proper way to react and b.) octavio's ...not "self-esteem" but ? comfort [or lack thereof] with it  
> -one mention of underage drinking

Their arrangement was convenient.

If he was ever asked about it, that was what he would say. Not that anybody ever _would_ —nobody knew that they were sleeping together, and he intended to keep it that way—but _if_ he was ever asked, he would simply say that it was convenient.

Convenient for him to show up at Octavio’s house and make out with him on his couch, convenient for them to fuck and then for him to be gone in the morning without having to worry about being tailed.

Convenient to have a partner who already knew what he liked and didn’t like. Convenient to not have to ask every time he had sex whether they felt good or not, because Taejoon had learned Octavio’s tells, what got him going and what made him huff and puff.

Truth be told, it was more than just convenient. It was _good._

Good when Octavio sucked bruises into his neck, his chest, biting on one of his nipples the way he liked while the other man rutted against his thigh, soaking through his boxers. Good because Octavio had learned Taejoon’s tells as well, and was intent on milking them out of him, wanting to see him cry and beg. 

Good because there was tension, build-up, hours of foreplay in the form of their bodies pressing against one another during a match, heated with electricity thrumming beneath the surface of their skin with the promise that they would do more later.

They hadn’t had sex in the Ring ever since their initial romp in the vault, but Taejoon had considered it multiple times whenever Octavio leaned too close to him with a revive syringe; or when he pinned the man to the ground when they were on opposite squads.

Sex with Octavio was good, and Taejoon kept coming back for more.

He had known that he would; it had been one of the initial reasons he’d been hesitant to even enter this arrangement with him, knowing that he would find himself drawn like a moth to light again and again. He just hadn’t quite anticipated how often he would be willing to find himself in the other’s bed.

They still had rules, of course. Mostly on Taejoon’s end— _don’t tell anyone about us, don’t act too friendly with me in the Games, do not ask me anything personal, it will only ever be the two of us,_ and _you are not allowed to come to my house._ Octavio had complained about his rules, but was pretty good at following them all the same. He even had one of his own; _if you’re going to sleep with somebody, tell me._

Taejoon knew that he probably wasn’t going to sleep with anyone other than him while in this arrangement—had literally entered it to avoid the hassle of having to seek people out—but agreed to Octavio’s terms all the same. It was only one rule, and would be easy to follow. 

The weeks passed by following a routine.

Five Games a week, four regular matches plus a Duos on Monday; going home to work on exposing the Syndicate for their crimes only to find his hand shoved down Octavio’s pants two hours later; and avoiding everybody else like the plague. Simple, repetitive, predictable. Just like how he liked it.

Until now.

Currently, Taejoon’s face was buried in his elbows, ass propped up in the air, thighs shaking as Octavio fingered him. His moans came out broken, chest shuddering with each assault on his prostate, so _good_ and also so _much._ His nails dug into his scalp as he panted, trying to fuck himself down on the other's digits, body longing for _more,_ greedily seeking out more of that wondrous feeling.

The original intent of tonight had been for him to bottom for the first time between them, but this goal had been forgotten—Octavio had found that spot inside of him that made him gasp, and now the man was clearly enjoying himself too much to stop, and Taejoon wasn't even sure that he wanted him to.

He had cum twice already, biting harshly into his forearm as he felt the other’s fingers scissor inside of him. The burn was hardly noticeable at this point and the stretch was pleasurable, but it didn't feel like _enough_ anymore. Octavio didn't stop, though, or give him more. He just kept pressing his fingers down on Taejoon's prostate, laughing when he cried and gasped and shouted, and he fucking _hated_ him for it, hated how _good_ it felt and hated how close he was to begging for more.

He dragged Octavio’s pillow over his head to drown out his own noises, his limbs weak and his thighs on the verge of collapse. He sobbed a little as Octavio inserted his ring finger, joining his index and middle, stretching him even more and _god_ he wanted a cock, wanted Octavio to fuck him senseless, wanted to be stretched and _full._

“So pretty,” The man purred from behind him, and he could practically hear the stupid smug smirk in his voice as he said that. “Coming apart for me.”

Taejoon wanted to say something back, put his sharp tongue to use, but his resolve instantly melted when Octavio curled his fingers once again and made his vision go white. He whined before reaching down to clench his weeping cock, on the verge of yet another orgasm.

A burning sensation was in his belly, an itchy arousal so intense that it almost hurt, but the pain felt good somehow. Octavio fucked his fingers against his prostate without pause, clearly intent on milking all the cum out of Taejoon, and it was _working_ , that fucking bastard. His thighs and the bedsheets beneath him were stained with a mixture of his pre and semen, and he was about to add even more to the mess.

He felt Octavio’s lips brush lightly against his shoulder as he came into his hand with a shout, cock managing a few weak spurts before he collapsed onto his stomach, unable to keep himself up anymore.

There were tears running down his face as he bit hard on his opposite hand, spots swimming before his vision. Octavio kept his fingers inside of him, fucking him through it—before he drew his hand away, and Taejoon was torn between relief that he could catch a break, yet also missing the feeling of fingers inside him. He hadn't been _full,_ but at least there had been _something_ in him.

After several minutes Taejoon managed to lift his head, sweat plastering his hair to his skin as he took in the sight of Octavio next to him, stroking his own cock languidly as he stared down at Taejoon.

“...What?” He asked, voice hoarse from the crying he’d done earlier, and he tried not to let it show how embarrassed he was.

“Nothing,” Octavio sighed, legs spreading a little wider as he ran fingers over his cunt. “Just thinking about you fucking me.”

Taejoon scoffed, sitting up slowly. His head felt heavy and his stomach sticky. “I fuck you every weekend. _You_ were supposed to fuck _me_ tonight.”

“Yeah, but this was much more fun.” Octavio nudged his thigh with his metal foot, before sighing again, back arching. “Hmm...more specifically, I was thinking about you fucking me on the beach.”

“That sounds awful,” Taejoon murmured, distracted as he searched for a towel.

“But it could be hot.”

“Yes. Very hot. And sandy.”

“Oh my god,” Octavio groaned. “Take the hint, dumbass—I’m asking you to come on the trip with me.”

Taejoon paused, processing the other’s words, before sighing and getting to his feet, a little shaky. He was too disoriented from just having come three fucking times to be having this conversation.

He took a shower, trying to scrub the sticky feeling off of him, but some of it seemed to remain, clinging to his abdomen and thighs. He showered here so often that Octavio had even bought him his own bodywash and set it aside for him—which he wasn’t exactly happy about, because that meant he came over _too_ much, but he was grateful for it. 

It was a different brand than Octavio’s; cheaper and smelling of lavender, whereas the other’s was coconut. He had been paranoid that the rest of the Legends would start to notice that they smelled the same after a while, but the separate bodywashes would absolve most of the issue.

He finished rinsing the suds from his hair (generic men’s shampoo that he wasn’t too worried about, because Makoa and even Ramya used the same type) before stepping out and reaching for a towel, patting himself dry as the steam in the room cleared his head enough to think about what Octavio had asked of him.

 _I’m asking you to come on the trip with me_...the very trip he was referring to, Taejoon knew, was the _‘all-expenses paid, Legend-exclusive’_ beach trip that the Game runners were giving them during their break—that one week before the season split, before they tried shaking up the meta with new guns or stupid rules.

He had tuned out the announcement of the trip, already knowing that he had no intention of going, and he planned on telling Octavio just that.

And speaking of him—the man entered the bathroom then, not even bothering to knock as he left the door open for the room to air out. He flashed Taejoon a grin as he passed by before coming to a halt and tugging on his towel, pulling him closer to him.

Taejoon let himself be guided, curious, before the other man leaned against him and managed to kiss the corner of his mouth. He half-turned his head, chasing after Octavio's lips with his own, before he remembered his own set of rules and jerked away from him, eyes narrowed.

They weren’t to kiss unless they were having sex. That had been another one of the things he’d established as they entered this arrangement, not wanting Octavio to get the wrong idea about their relationship, and they were generally pretty good about sticking to that rule. Sometimes though, Octavio caught him off-guard, and he hated the man for it. He knew he did it just to tease him and drive him up the wall, and he was angry with himself every time he fell for it.

“I’m not going on that trip,” Taejoon said stiffly as Octavio stepped into the shower, clinging tightly to the curtain so as to not lose his footing on the slick floor. Taejoon had heard him slip and fall several times while showering thanks to a combination of soap and his metal feet, and he reached over now to help the other man balance himself lest he accidentally rip the curtain down like he did last time.

“Why not?” Octavio asked, and Taejoon tossed the used towel over his shoulder as he stood in the doorway, the air cool against his naked body.

“I have more important things to do,” he stated, before closing the door behind him, not bothering to hear Octavio's response.

He got dressed into the spare set of clothes he’d started bringing over with him, and snubbed his nose at the filthy sheets as he did so. He considered maybe doing something kind for once, and throwing them in the washing machine for Octavio, but he soon decided that it wasn’t his problem, and simply tossed his used towel into the pile of dirty clothes Octavio left by his door.

It took him a while to find the clothes Octavio had practically torn off his body earlier—the other man threw them every which way, and while he had found his underwear and pants already, there was no sign of his shirt.

He eventually found it half under the couch; he had no idea how it managed to get there, and he had half the mind to tell Octavio _stop throwing my shit everywhere._ Tomorrow, maybe. If he came over again.

(He probably would.)

He shrugged his jacket on, and was just starting to pull on his socks when he heard the bathroom door open again and Octavio came rushing out, soaking wet and dripping water everywhere.

“Hey, don’t just go!” He shouted, and Taejoon scowled down at him. “You don’t know how to treat a guy right, do you?”

“I ate you out earlier,” Taejoon said flatly, annoyed by the noise. _Shut up._

“You can’t just leave while I’m in the shower!”

“I can.” To prove his point, Taejoon unlocked the front door and stepped outside into the apartment hallway. There were three lights overhead, though one was buzzing and flickering, giving the place an almost eerie feeling.

He’d never seen Octavio’s neighbors before, and intended to keep it that way—but suddenly Octavio's apartment door was opening again, and the man stepped out, still soaking-wet.

“Kim,” he said loudly, and Taejoon whirled around, raising his hand to his face in a violent _zip-it_ manner, worried that the people living next to him would hear. “C’mon, dude. What do you have to do that’s more exciting than a beach trip?”

“I do not care for the beach,” Taejoon lied. He’d never actually been, so he didn’t have strong opinions on it either way, but he didn’t want whatever they had going on between them to extend beyond the privacy of Octavio’s apartment. The tension between them during the Games was already pushing it as it was.

Octavio stared at him hard, before rolling his eyes. “ _Whatever_. Adiós.”

And with that he slammed the door behind him, so harshly that the flickering light in the hallway went out completely. Taejoon had honestly been expecting him to put up more of a fight, but was glad that he hadn’t. 

When he returned to his own home he fiddled around with Hack for a couple of hours, trying to improve its utility before the season split—that was the deadline for changed abilities to be submitted for review.

Of course, the Syndicate didn’t know the _full_ extent of Hack’s capabilities, but he knew that if he didn’t occasionally submit a form detailing (some) of the upgrades he gave it, they would open up an investigation on him to make sure that he wasn’t cheating.

Even though _they_ were the people rigging the Games.

Bitter, he turned in for the night at around one in the morning, and woke up half-hard in his sweats six hours later after a vivid dream of Octavio fucking him on his fingers again.

* * *

As the weeks progressed, it seemed that pretty much every other Legend was going to go on this frivolous beach trip; even Anita was tagging along, despite her gruff complaints about how _‘there’s no such thing as a vacation in the Outlands, ladies’._

They wouldn’t stop bugging him about it, either; both Ajay and Witt had taken to asking him every day if he was going to come or not, despite him saying _‘no’_ every time.

“You’ve got wrinkles, boy,” Ajay told him, leaning against D.O.C and fixing him with a calculating look. “My professional medical opinion? Ya need some fun in the sun.”

“Thank you,” Taejoon murmured, not sparing her a glance as he maneuvered his drone. “But my insurance doesn’t cover that.”

“Well played.”

Octavio was surprisingly one of the only ones who hadn’t tried to convince him to come with after that night. For some reason Taejoon's updates for Hack kept falling through, and he came over the following Saturday to pin Octavio against the wall and and fuck him through his frustration over it—and the man didn’t bring it up that day, nor the day after. It almost made Taejoon believe that he'd dropped the matter.

It was currently the Saturday before the beginning of his brief vacation from the Games. The others were flying out tomorrow afternoon and he was content to sit at his computer and stare at his screen, trying to fix whatever had gone wrong with Hack’s code.

He honestly should’ve known that Octavio’s silence on the matter was only temporary. That the man must have been planning something, must have had something else in mind to convince him, and this came in the form of his phone buzzing beside his computer. His gaze swiveled towards it blearily, the page of numbers swimming before his eyes, and he gave a sigh as he saw that the message was from Octavio.

All of their texts were usually very short and brief. Only one or two words, and half of them were just times for him to come over. Octavio liked to add a lot of winky faces to his texts, but they were about as abrupt as Taejoon’s, so he never told him off for it, knowing that it would be a fruitless effort.

He considered ignoring the text, but he was antsy, leg bouncing as he read the same lines of code over and over again. He wasn’t processing any of it—hadn’t been for the past hour, too frustrated with his own failure to give his work the proper attention it needed.

He exited out of the tab and opened up a different one, the communications he was surveilling to see if Hammond was going to be involved with their next season, but it hadn’t updated in several weeks, now. He was getting impatient.

Taejoon bit hard on his lower lip, finger tapping incessantly against the corner of his keyboard, before he gave in and snatched his phone up, unlocking the screen to see what Octavio had sent him.

This had been a mistake; right there, on his screen, was Octavio’s partially-nude body. The man was holding up his signature devil horns for the camera, but his face was tilted out of view for the main attraction—a fucking _bikini._

There was a lot to unpack there for Taejoon. Number one was the fact that Octavio was clearly putting his chest in focus, and he didn’t really know how to feel about that. 

(“Genuine question,” Taejoon murmured against his skin, for once trying to be careful with his choice of words as opposed to being blunt. Octavio raised an eyebrow, as if he already knew what was coming.

“Why haven’t I chopped my tits off?”

“...If you want to put it that way.”

Octavio grinned, using his thumb to nudge the barbell of his piercing a bit, and Taejoon found his eyes drawn to it for the nth time that evening.

The other man usually wore a t-shirt or a sports bra whenever they had sex, so Taejoon had never brought it up, unsure if it was a source of discomfort for him. But tonight Octavio had worn a very tight shirt (and probably on _purpose_ ) so that Taejoon’s eyes kept wandering to his chest and the piercings that he could clearly make out through the fabric.

They had made out on his couch again until Octavio had eventually taken his shirt off entirely, and Taejoon felt the need to ask, _just_ to make sure that it was okay for him to pay any attention to his chest.

“You know how long the goddamn recovery time is for physical activity?” Octavio had asked, wrapping his arms around Taejoon’s neck, and he in turn placed his hands on the back of Octavio's thighs.

“A month?” He guessed.

“Eight. Weeks.” Octavio’s eyes narrowed, fingers tapping against the back of the couch. “I’m not doing _that_ shit anytime soon. Not until they invent some boob-begone magic with no recovery time.”

Taejoon had closed his eyes at that statement. _Boob-begone magic. Idiot._

“Anyways, I don’t just show these babies to anybody,” Octavio then purred, running his hand through Taejoon’s hair before grabbing a fistful and tugging his head back to expose his neck. “If you’re not into it, I can just put my shirt back on. But you’re missin’ out if you do.”

“If you are comfortable with it,” Taejoon managed to get out, no longer so focused on the conversation as he felt the other gyrate his hips slowly, torturously, down onto his straining cock.)

Despite the conversation they’d had about it, Taejoon was never really sure how to react to Octavio’s chest. It was new territory to him, and he was constantly paranoid that he’d misstep and say the wrong thing, or do something that would piss the other off. But judging by the way Octavio had taken this photo, he was clearly trying to incite _some_ sort of...reaction.

_Silva: [image_png]_

_Silva: packin for the trip_

_Silva: u know i bought this thing as a joke but its rly cute whoops_

Taejoon’s mouth was dry as his fingers hovered over his phone, tempted to type out a message, but he didn’t know what it would be. He was torn between telling him to send more pictures and also blocking him.

His phone buzzed in his hand again, and his eyes widened involuntarily at the new image, blood rushing south.

_Silva: [image_png]_

_Silva: ok i lied i bought it because it makes me feel hot now tell me im hot_

He’d pulled the bikini top just a little lower to allow his piercings to glint in the lighting of his bedroom, and Taejoon shoved away from his desk angrily, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything now. Not with Octavio _fucking_ Silva sending pictures of his tits and making his head spin.

He glared at the screen, fighting with the urge to save the pictures— _nobody would ever know, he could encrypt them so that they couldn't be accessed_ —when Octavio sent a third image.

The top had been untied from the back so it hung loosely over his chest, not covering much of anything as he posed in front of his mirror. His finger was inserted in the waistband of the matching bottom, stretching it so that he could just see the other’s cock peeking through his folds at this angle.

Taejoon slid down in his seat, feet propped up against the edge of his bed, knees bent as he reached down to palm himself through his pants, taking in every detail of Octavio’s body—the line of his abs, the broadness in his shoulders and the sharpness of his jaw.

The edge of his smirk was the only part of his face not out of frame, and Taejoon imagined biting bruises against his lips, painting the man with his...

_Silva: u know i can see u reading these right?_

_Silva: send dick pics_

_Silva: wait no_

_Silva: bulge pics >>>> dick pics_

For one wild moment, Taejoon considered actually obliging. Considered squeezing his thighs together and taking a picture of his cock straining against the front of his pants, a small wet spot already forming around its head. Wanted to send it to Octavio, wanted to receive pictures of the other’s cock in return—but he snapped himself out of it, and began to type out a response.

_I am not sending you a...._

_Silva: not talkative 2nite? fine_

_Silva: guess ill do all the talking myself_

Taejoon deleted his message, staring blankly at the screen to see what would happen next, and almost immediately Octavio sent him a new message, as if he had been eager to get to the point.

_Silva: i wanna fuck u_

_Silva: soooo bad_

_Silva: i know we were gonna do it the other day but i got distracted by how CUTE u sound_

_Silva: even when its just my fingers u were crying like a lil bitch_

_Silva: u came so much, didnt even know it was fucking possible_

Taejoon’s breathing was getting heavier as he read each message, the words starting to blur together as he gripped himself through the fabric of his sweats, cock starting to ache. He knew he should put a stop to this—they kept their messages short for a _reason_ , but Octavio didn’t seem to care, and kept plowing on, messages coming out a little slower, as though he was now preoccupied with something.

_Silva: gonna fuck u on my cock so i can hear u cry again_

_Silva: but harder this time_

_Silva: and i know ur into it._

_Silva: u keep bringing up how i was supposed to fuck u_

_Silva: so the next time we meet up_

_Silva: im bending ur stupid ass over and fucking u till u dont know ur own goddamn name_

_Silva: ur just gonna be sayin mine_

Taejoon shimmied his pants down to his thighs, taking his cock in hand and smearing his pre around with his thumb. His head was spinning as he tried to vividly imagine the man behind him, stretching him open and fucking into him relentlessly like he'd been craving these past few weeks.

He wouldn’t have to worry about the other man finishing earlier than him and leaving him to get himself off, not with Octavio’s silicone cock. His spine tingled with the memory of his fingers pressing down on his prostate and milking it for all the cum his poor body could manage, shivering beneath him and falling apart, and imagined that same relentless pace applied to getting fucked _properly._

He slid one hand up his shirt, nails digging into his chest, which was sensitive, but hardly anyone ever touched him there. He felt a pleasurable tingling sensation as he pinched one of his nipples, twisting and pulling as his back arched a little in his chair, thrusting up into his own hand. His phone buzzed on his bed with another selfie, and with grit teeth he removed his hand from under his shirt to check it.

Octavio was completely naked in this one, hand bracing himself on the bed and blocking his cunt from view, thighs spread wide and body tilted back to bring attention to his pierced nipples. Taejoon could see the dildo Octavio had planned to use on him the other day resting on his nightstand, placed there almost deliberately.

_Silva: anyways_

_Silva: see u tomorrow. :)_

Taejoon let out a curse, and his body curled up in his chair as he came into his hand, biting hard on his knuckles to keep himself from making more noise than necessary. Fuck. _Fuck_. Stupid _fucking_ Silva and his stupid fucking nudes and promises of fucking Taejoon good and hard. And he was _especially_ fucking stupid for allowing himself to be tipped over the edge like this, at the vague promise of getting fucked on his cock the next time he saw him.

Tomorrow...

_The trip..._

Later, he could blame it on him being tired and frustrated and horny. Could blame it on not getting any proper sleep in three days, could blame it on the grief Hack was giving him, could blame it on coercion on Octavio’s end even though the only thing he’d done was send pictures of himself in a bikini until he suddenly wasn’t wearing it. 

Taejoon sent a message to the Games’ trip coordinator, telling them that he would be indeed coming along, before throwing his phone down on the bed and digging through his bedside table, looking for lube. He shoved his pants down to his ankles before kicking them off entirely, practically tripping onto the bed as he propped himself up on his knees and pulled his pillows near him.

But something was bothering him. He couldn’t just let that fucking idiot have the last word, so he pulled his phone back towards him to type one last thing.

 _Me_ : _Delete this conversation._

He saved the pictures quickly before doing just that, and finally discarded his phone for good, coating three of his fingers in slick lube as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. 

* * *

Maybe a different environment was what he needed to improve Hack. A chance of pace, scenery, a couple of days to relax...just to clear his mind, and get a fresh outlook on the situation. Maybe then he would be able to figure out what he was doing wrong, or at least ease enough of his tension to stop making so many mistakes.

That was all a lie, he knew. An excuse he made up to make himself feel better, because the true reason he had agreed to come on this stupid fucking trip was Octavio Silva, and he hated both himself and the other man for it all.

Witt was teasing him for tagging along on the airship as they flew out to their location, and Taejoon considered asking Natalie if he could borrow her noise-canceling headphones while he tried to write things down—before remembering the current state of their relationship, and sighing. He stayed far away from Octavio throughout the entire flight, not sparing him a glance, though he knew that the younger man must be laughing at him behind his back.

The resort they were staying at was quite nice; a beautiful pastel-colored beach house with silky aqua curtains and blue furniture inside. It had a long white wooden staircase leading up to the porch, and beneath the stilts of the building was an area for barbecuing and an outdoor showerhead to rinse off. They were dozens of yards away from the actual beach—close enough to be convenient, but far enough to not get caught up in the high tides.

It smelled strange outside to Taejoon—salty, fishy, and something else beneath it all that he couldn’t quite place his finger on, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Just...different. Seagulls hopped along the beach, which was empty except for a few clumps of seaweed and shells. It seemed as though they were alone out here.

He hardly had time to admire it all, though.

“We’re short two rooms,” Makoa said, setting his own bags down on the smooth wooden floors and placing his hands on his hips. He was dressed in a tacky floral shirt that suited him, somehow. “Some of us are gonna have to share, brothas.”

“I do not mind having to share with Wraith!” Natalie piped up, ever so helpful, and the shorter woman smiled at her, so quick and brief that Taejoon almost thought that he had imagined it.

Octavio opened his mouth, eyes bright, and he flinched at the thought of the other man declaring that he would room with him— _we are supposed to be a secret, you fucking idiot_ —when Loba spoke before he could, voice a purr.

“And, if the sergeant does not mind, I would be willing to share.”

He watched Anita fold her arms and roll her eyes, but it was all for show, as she nodded and didn’t put up much of a fight aside from that.

Octavio seemed disappointed, but this didn’t last. He perked up and sped towards a sets of doors, throwing one open with his shoulder and barreling straight inside. Taejoon watched him dump his bag onto his bed, before meeting his eyes from across the house and pointing silently at the wall separating his room from the one next to it. His meaning was clear.

Taejoon considered ignoring him and finding a room next to someone who was sure to be quieter—Bloodhound, maybe—but he then thought that it would be suspicious if he was spotted going from his room to Octavio’s when their rooms were a fair distance apart. So he resigned himself to being Octavio’s neighbor, just like he was in the dropship.

His room was okay. A queen-sized bed with dark blue covers, seashell-patterned walls, and a simple white dresser awaited him. No TV, no desk, and when he took off his shoes, the floor underfoot was fucking freezing, but that was alright.

He hadn’t packed very many clothes. Three pairs of pants and three shirts. He had night clothes and fresh underwear for every day here, but that was it. No swimsuit, either. Everything else in his backpack was stuff to keep him entertained while he was here, as he did not intend to step foot on the beach. Books, his laptop (one without any important or damning information on it), his sketchbook, and...

He shifted a couple of things around in his bag to hide the lube and condoms he’d brought, before opening up the closet of his room and shoving it inside. He felt embarrassed for having brought those items, even though he’d come on this trip just so that Octavio could...

A knock sounded on his door, and then the man himself barged in without waiting for an answer.

“Hola,” he greeted, and Taejoon scowled at him, already annoyed.

“I could’ve been getting dressed,” he grit out, and Octavio scoffed.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before!”

“Close the goddamn _door._ ”

“I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go swimming,” Octavio said, and memories of their texting exchange the night before came flooding back to him, tinting his cheeks pink.

“...No,” he said, sitting down on the edge of his bed and trying to hide his face from the other's view. “I didn’t pack a swimsuit.”

“What? Why?” He asked, sounding genuinely shocked, and Taejoon clenched his jaw.

"You realize that we are not friends, right?"

There was a pause, and when Octavio spoke, his voice didn't sound as light, but rather snappier and annoyed.

"I know _that,_ " he grumbled, and Taejoon glanced at him. "You remind me of that every time you fuck me and then lea—"

" _The door!_ " Taejoon barked, voice raised, and Octavio leaned against it with wide eyes, finally closing it behind him. Taejoon almost (key word: _almost_ ) felt guilty for shouting at him, but he did not want _anyone_ to hear....what he had been about to say.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, before deciding to address Octavio's question as to _why_ he didn't bring a swimsuit, hoping that him answering would make him leave the room faster.

“I didn’t even _want_ to come on this pointless trip.”

Octavio stared at him in silence for so long that it was almost concerning—before the corners of his mouth titled up, and Taejoon realized his mistake.

“Why _did_ you come, then?” Octavio asked in the voice of someone who already knew the answer, and Taejoon could not _believe_ that he was pulling this shit right now. “I wanna hear you say it out loud, pretty boy.”

That stupid. Fucking. _Nickname._

Taejoon pushed off from the bed abruptly, and to Octavio’s credit he didn’t flinch, but his eyes did widen once again.

Taejoon approached him, hovering so closely to him that he was practically pinned to the wall without him even needing to touch the man. His heart was hammering in his chest, but he had no intention of starting anything right now. Not when people were still walking around, unpacking and chattering away, thumping past his room with its thin walls. 

“I came here so that you could fuck me,” Taejoon told him quietly, and Octavio leaned forward, lips parting. For a second he was tempted to take that plush lower lip of his between his teeth and _bite_ ; draw a whine out of him, like he always did, before stuffing his cock into his mouth and watching his bruised lips stretch around his girth.

Octavio wanted it, too—he could see it in the way his pupils dilated as he stared up at Taejoon, a flush rising to his cheeks as they stood too stiflingly close to each other. Taejoon's eyes moved from Octavio's eyes to his mouth, considering it for just a second more, before breaking the tense silence by saying,

“Now get out.”

He pushed away from Octavio, the shorter man leaning forward, as if trying to chase after him, before he glared. He watched Octavio continue to scowl as he opened Taejoon’s door and left without another word, metal feet clanking down the hallway to do god knows what.

Taejoon settled back down on his bed, trying to will his arousal away, though he was tempted to jerk off like he normally did whenever Octavio wound him up. They'd _just_ got here, though, and he wasn't so pathetic as to masturbate in his room barely a half hour after arriving.

Though it was mid-afternoon and the sun would be setting soon, everyone else seemed intent on getting some beach time before nightfall as he heard multiple pairs of feet pad past his door. For a moment he felt rather left out, as he was accustomed to these days, before remembering that he had actively made the choice to not participate.

He read about a dozen pages of his horror novel before setting it aside with a sigh. He got to his feet and found an outlet for him to plug his laptop into so that he could work on Hack’s code. He might as well try to do _something_ productive while he was here.

As he waited for it to boot up, he stood by the window and shifted the silky curtains aside, watching everyone else run across the white sand or splash about in the water.

They all looked so... _happy_. Relaxed and carefree and foolish. Even Anita seemed to be enjoying herself, playing an aggressive game of volleyball with Ramya using a net they’d probably dragged out from beneath the house.

His eyes scanned the area before finding Octavio knee-deep in the water, taking selfies and showing off his swimwear—a very baggy black t-shirt and a pair of bright green swim-trunks, probably his own merchandise.

Taejoon didn’t know why he had expected Octavio to wear the bikini, but in hindsight, it had probably been bought for the express purpose of fucking with him last night. He felt a familiar mixture of anger and arousal in his stomach at the thought, and he bit hard on the inside of his cheek as he left the window. _Stop thinking about him._

For dinner Makoa grilled hot-dogs and served them to everyone, setting out the wide array of stuff he'd brought for everyone—ketchup, relish, mustard, mayo, cheese, chili, onions...

“You make a mean ‘dog, Makoa,” Witt said, mustard in his beard as he scarfed down a hot dog. Taejoon had joined the rest only because he didn’t want to look suspicious by bringing his food upstairs into the house, sitting at one of the picnic tables below the porch and chewing solemnly on a chili dog. Everyone else seemed to be wet and in high spirits, which just made him feel worse by comparison.

He wasn’t... _jealous_ or anything. He didn’t have time for fun anymore, not with his new identity, not with what he was trying to do. He’d never even gone to the beach before, so what did it matter if he spent the entire time cooped up inside his room, doing what could’ve just been done at home? He couldn’t miss what he had never experienced before.

Wraith sat beside him, the only person not wet like everyone else, and asked him quietly to pass the pitcher of lemonade that Pathfinder had made earlier. He enjoyed her company a bit more than he enjoyed everyone else’s (not that that was saying much) so he obliged without complaint.

He watched Natalie approach them with a spark in her eye, though this look quickly faded when she took notice of Taejoon sitting next to the woman she'd clearly been wanting to speak to.

“Oh,” she said, hesitant, and then backed away from them. Wraith opened her mouth to speak, but Taejoon got to his feet before she could, bowing his head and excusing himself quietly from the table.

He carried his half-eaten food to the trashcan and tossed his paper plate inside, glancing behind him to see the two women now eating in pleasant silence together. He wanted to say something to them, but he didn’t know what. He probably shouldn't even bother.

He realized for the first time that Octavio was nowhere to be seen, and decided to ask Bloodhound (dressed in full scuba-diving gear) where he had gone, knowing that they would not ask many questions.

“I believe he went upstairs to shower,” they told him, and he raised an eyebrow. “But he ate dinner already. He was swiping food when Makoa was not looking.”

 _Sounds like him_. “Okay. Thank you.”

He didn’t exactly trust the other man to actually be showering, though. As he stood there watching everyone converse he couldn’t fight back the nagging, paranoid thought that Octavio was snooping around in Taejoon’s room, going through his things and making a nuisance of himself and...

_Don't think about it._

_Don’t think about it._

His body stiffened as he tried to remember if he had properly shut his laptop down or not. It didn’t have anything too bad in it, but he still didn’t want anyone looking. He was _sure_ that he had shut it off completely, but there was doubt rooted in him, telling him that he had simply just closed it, not intending to be gone for long...

Taejoon excused himself quickly and made his way up the flight of stairs, practically bursting through the screen door as he made his way towards his room. When he barged inside, it was empty, and his laptop sat innocently on his bed, turned off. He glanced around, looking for any signs of intruders or misplaced items, but everything seemed to be the same as he had left it. 

Exhaling, he turned to leave, but nearly ran straight into Octavio as he did so, letting out an involuntary swear. The shorter man’s hair was wet, sticking to his forehead, and he was dressed already. He looked annoyed when he tilted his head up to see who had almost knocked it over, but this expression quickly changed.

“I thought you were eating dinner?” Octavio asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I finished,” he responded shortly, and they both stood there in silence, not knowing what to do from there. He wanted to push past him and grab another plate of food, but Octavio was shifting on his feet, clearly wanting to speak but not doing so yet.

Glancing around to make sure that they were well and truly alone, Taejoon asked,

“What do you want?”

“You already know what I want,” Octavio said matter-of-factly. “The question is, amigo—when?”

Taejoon considered his options, wanting to give Octavio a clear answer _now_ so that he would not be harassed about it later.

He wasn’t sure what everyone was planning to do over the course of the week, but it would probably be things like swimming and other outdoor activities. They would likely notice if Octavio went missing, as he was one of the loudest and most athletic in the group, so his absence would be suspicious. They would have to do it at night, then. 

_Of course they would._ That was obvious. The question was just _which night?_

Could they do it tonight? Everyone had been swimming earlier or else doing some kind of physical activity, and they were probably tired because of it. They had both left early and separately, so nobody would think it suspicious that they were nowhere to be found now. Everyone would probably come up to bed soon without giving them a second thought, and who knows when a similar situation could occur?

They should take advantage of everyone being worn out while they could, so that they were less likely to be heard. The walls in this place were thin—Taejoon could hear whenever people passed by his room, could clearly make out their words and individual footsteps. His room was the closest to the front door, and the only room next to it was Octavio’s. Nobody would hear them if they were both in his room while everyone else was sleeping.

Taejoon stared down at the other man, half-wanting to tell him _later. Not tonight—we just got here._ Wanted to make the other man wait as a punishment for doing what he did, but Taejoon was _just_ as impatient as he was. His usual dreams of fucking Octavio till he _shut the hell up_ had been replaced by the image of the shorter man bending him over, stuffing him full of cock and hitting that spot inside of him that made him forget everything; the Syndicate, his worries, his own name...

Octavio leaned a little closer to him, pretty eyes twinkling especially bright in the soft lighting of the beach house, and Taejoon considered his options again. The memory of Octavio's fingers pressing down on his prostate made him shudder a little, and the heat inside of him made his head feel cloudy. He _wanted_ to feel good, wanted to be fucked until stars were swimming before his eyes; hell, that was the entire reason he had come on this stupid fucking trip.

So he murmured quietly out of the corner of his mouth, as if he didn’t want to be seen speaking:

“Tonight. But not now.”

Octavio smiled in a way that normally would have left him feeling nervous, but instead just left a thrumming feeling of anticipation beneath his skin. 

“Ten?” He suggested.

That sounded late enough without being ridiculous. He nodded slowly, and the younger man's smile turned into something a little more dangerous before he disappeared back into his room. Taejoon stood there, somewhat annoyed by his own eagerness, and went to get a drink of water, throat suddenly much more dry than usual.

* * *

When Octavio came into his room later that night, after the sounds of footsteps in the hall had long since disappeared, he wasted no time in pulling Taejoon down and kissing him in that rough over-eager way of his.

Taejoon responded by kissing back, equally as biting, allowing the other man to push him onto the bed and grab tight fistfuls of his hair. He wanted to be roughed tonight, wanted Octavio to mark him and make him whine, and the other man seemed to know this already somehow—his shirt was practically ripped over his head as Octavio started to bite kisses into his chest, making his back arch at the sensation against his skin.

They hadn’t said one word to each other so far, which was miraculous, really. He felt that Octavio did too much fucking _chattering_ whenever they did this—but tonight the other man seemed to understand their need to be quiet, and had gone straight to initiating what Taejoon wanted without much verbal teasing. 

Taejoon covered his mouth with his palm as he felt Octavio run his tongue over his skin, down his stomach, over his hips, before his fingers curled into the waistband of his pants. He took both them and his underwear off in one fluid motion, made easier by the fact that he had changed into sweats earlier.

His cock stood half-hard, pre already beading at his slit, and he fought back the urge to take himself into his hand. His body jerked a little as Octavio kept teasing his tongue along his heated skin, over his balls and perineum, before traveling back up to kiss his shaft.

Taejoon spread his legs, silently willing for the other man to _get on with it_ so that they wouldn’t be here all night—but Octavio seemed content with kissing him everywhere for now. He felt Octavio's lips move to his tense thighs, taking his skin between his teeth, and rolled his eyes. He’d thought this before, but for a man who claimed to like the rush of things, he sure took his sweet fucking time.

He suddenly felt the pad of a finger push against his hole experimentally, and his whole body jerked so violently that the empty bottle of water on his bedside table fell over and hit the floor with a hollow _bonk_ sound.

“Lube,” Taejoon hissed, being the first one to break the silence, and Octavio laughed quietly in response, already sliding off the bed. He bent over to rifle through the bag he’d brought with him, and Taejoon took this moment to admire the curvature of his ass through his shorts before letting his head flop back onto his pillow and pretending that he hadn’t looked.

Sure, they had sex pretty much every weekend now, but he was still loathe to admit that he found Octavio attractive. The other man let it get to his head.

“How do you wanna do this?” Octavio asked, finally straightening up, holding several things in his arms. “Missionary or—”

Taejoon sat up before he could finish that sentence, eyes narrowing as he dared him to say more. Octavio smiled at him, clearly satisfied with himself as he tipped all his stuff onto the bed before beginning to strip.

Taejoon kept glaring until Octavio's shirt came off, revealing the familiar pattern of the thin bikini top he had worn yesterday beneath. His lips parted, now unsure where to look, and he found his gaze drawn to Octavio hand's.

“Like what you see?” The other man teased, snapping the strap over his shoulder, and. _Fuck._ He did. He really did. His cock was fully hard now, and he shifted his knees a little, trying to shield himself from his view.

“...Why didn’t you wear it out?” Taejoon asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. It was probably a dumb question, but he was genuinely bewildered at the fact that the man _had_ brought it after all—just to fuck Taejoon, apparently.

“And get misgendered as soon as I step outside? No way, José,” Octavio scoffed, taking his shorts off before kicking them aside. “Wearing a sports bra gets uncomfortable after a while, and sometimes I just don’t like having 'em out, so this is a compromise. No t-shirts and no getting sweaty.”

That was fair, Taejoon supposed. He watched Octavio look down at his chest, adjusting the fabric of it all, before approaching the bed swiftly. He was now hovering over Taejoon, so close that he leaned himself back, further and further until he was laying down again. 

“Plus,” Octavio breathed, hand trailing down Taejoon’s chest, and he swallowed, familiar white noise buzzing in his head. “I wasn’t lying when I said it made me feel hot. So tell me.”

Taejoon managed to speak despite the fact that his mouth had become a desert because of their proximity. “Tell you what?”

“Tell me I’m hot,” Octavio said, voice low, and Taejoon’s cock twitched, because _fuck._ “Or tell me what you did when you saw my pictures.”

Taejoon considered lying for a brief moment, but something compelled him to be honest; his arousal, perhaps. Octavio above him like this, positioning his arms in such a way that pressed his chest together and kept drawing his eyes—it was going to drive him fucking insane. He was already finding it hard to breathe.

His hands found Octavio’s waist as he remembered to inhale, and when he exhaled he admitted,

“I saved them.”

Octavio raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And?”

“Jerked off because of you.” His sentences were starting to come out shorter, clipped, matching his breathing. “Imagined you...”

Octavio made eye contact with him as he hooked his finger into the front of his top, pulling it down slowly— _just_ low enough to reveal the metal that he found unfairly attractive, and he was reminded again of what his thoughts had been consumed by last night.

“Imagined you fucking me,” he finished, somewhat lamely, hips bucking up into the air a little. His cock ached for friction, and Octavio being so close to him like this was _aggravating._ He wanted to fuck or _be_ fucked, and both sounded very good right now.

“And?” Octavio pressed on, grinning in that _stupid_ way of his that meant he knew what Taejoon had been thinking yesterday. “You can go ahead and say it, pretty boy.”

He pulled his top even lower, and Taejoon tried not to look, because he didn’t _want_ to say what he’d been thinking—it felt too vulgar to say out loud, and he wasn’t sure if Octavio would be offended or uncomfortable or angry or...

“Fine,” Octavio sighed, as if annoyed. He let go of the bikini, allowing it to snap back into place, but because of his earlier movements and shifting it didn’t sit on his breasts like it had before, one nipple only half-covered as he leaned closer to Taejoon’s face. “I’ll finish for you: you want to cum on my tits, don’t you?”

Taejoon swallowed, cock twitching once again at those words, but he couldn’t find it within himself to speak. He simply nodded, and Octavio drew away from him, looking satisfied.

"Good boy.” Then his tone became more commanding: “Now flip over.”

Taejoon sat back up, twisting his body around and shuddering when his cock momentarily made contact with the soft sheets below him. He grimaced, wanting to ask Octavio to go fetch a towel for him to lay on, but he felt the other man place his palm between his shoulder blades and press down on him, pushing him onto his elbows and leaving his ass propped up.

Taejoon clasped his hands together and rested his forehead against them, taking a few breaths to calm himself as he heard the sound of Octavio ripping open a lube packet. His cock was throbbing between his legs, that momentary contact filling him with the want for _more,_ so he shifted his position a bit, reaching down to provide himself some relief.

He had just wrapped his hand around his shaft when he felt a slick finger against his hole, and he clenched his jaw to keep himself from gasping due to how unexpectedly cold it was. Octavio wasted no time in working his finger inside of him, the sensation almost unpleasant to Taejoon at first due to the change in pace—whereas before Octavio had been going agonizingly slow, now he seemed eager to fuck his cock into him, speeding up in his preparations to get to the main event of the night.

Octavio added a second finger as the heat inside of Taejoon reached its peak; several days worth of tension had built up inside of until he was spilling into his hand with a gasp, somewhat embarrassed by his early orgasm. Octavio clicked his tongue as he added a third finger, making him whine at the stretch, too soon after the second.

“You came so fast,” Octavio hummed, voice teasing, and Taejoon buried his face into the bed to keep himself from making any more noises lest he get too loud. _Quiet._ “We haven’t even gotten to the _good_ part yet, cariño."

Taejoon wiped his cumstained hand against his own thigh, feeling gross as he did so. He didn’t know if this place had a washing machine or not and he was trying to make as little a mess as possible, though he knew this would be a hard feat to achieve. He gasped once again as Octavio thrusted his fingers inside of him, the burning now more pleasurable than painful.

He pulled his pillow against his face so that he could bite the corner, feeling somewhat juvenile while he did so. The last time he'd had to keep so quiet was with his first boyfriend, years ago, nineteen and whining as his fingers teased Taejoon while their friends laughed and drank beer just around the corner...

" _Hah,_ " he exhaled, curling his fingers into the pillow beneath him at the memory of the guy's cock slamming into him, hard and relentless. He was getting tired of all the teasing and build-up and prep; he should have been fucked _weeks_ ago, but it had taken him agreeing to come on stupid beach vacation to get his wish fulfilled.

He was almost annoyed at this fact again, but the annoyance melted off of him as soon as it came, a groan rumbling in his chest as Octavio’s fingers brushed against his prostate and made stars dance before his eyes.

“Now,” Taejoon mumbled out, voice muffled by the pillow, and he could practically hear that _smirk_ in Octavio’s voice as he echoed,

“Now?”

“Now,” he repeated, voice cracking just a little. Embarrassing, but he just wanted to feel _full_. “Fuck me.”

Octavio giggled, as if he found the situation amusing, and Taejoon felt his face heat up at this noise for some reason. How did he sound to the other man? Desperate? Needy? He certainly felt that way, even if he wanted to voice none of it out loud—couldn’t let Octavio know that he was getting to him, that he ached to have his cock inside of him, fucking him until he forgot his own name.

More sounds of packets being ripped open, and when he peered over his shoulder he saw Octavio lubing up his silicone cock with a rather intense look in his eyes. One of his hands had slid behind the fabric of his bikini top, rubbing circles into his chest, but this hand soon dropped to readjust his harness, and then he was climbing onto the bed again. 

“On your back,” Octavio said, sounding a bit breathless—it would be hardly noticeable to anyone except for Taejoon, who was starting to pick up on it thanks to their time spent together. “I want to see that pretty boy face of yours.”

Taejoon obliged him, settling down on the bed just a little awkwardly; he didn’t really know what to do with his hands, didn’t want to touch himself lest he cum early again. His fingers tried curling into the covers but he couldn’t really get a good handle on it, so he instead reached his hands behind him. He adjusted the pillow under his neck and held onto it, arms on either side of his face as he watched Octavio line himself up against his hole, heart pounding frantically in his chest.

He remembered to _breathe_ when Octavio pushed inside of him, his toes curling as he let out a gasp, cock thicker than he had expected it to be. He closed his eyes, turning his head to the side to half-cover his face with his arm as Octavio inched inside of him.

It was _good,_ filling him exactly like he wanted, but it was too much too soon and he ended up saying,

“Give me a second."

His words were still coming out clipped, as if he could hardly speak, but Octavio understood him and waited, letting Taejoon adjust to the feeling inside of him. He rolled his hips down experimentally once, twice, three times before giving Octavio the go-ahead to continue. Inch by inch Octavio’s cock slid into him and he threw his head back, teeth clenched as he tried to let his body relax to take him all. 

By the time Octavio had bottomed out inside of him he could hardly breathe, torn between the need to gasp and the want to keep himself silent. Octavio spread Taejoon's legs further, hands gripping behind his knees as he stared down at him, biting on his lower lip.

That intense look was in his eyes again as he moved his hips slowly, watching his cock slide out of him, just an inch or so—before he thrusted back inside and Taejoon let out the tiniest noise that died quickly in his throat.

“ _Shit_ ,” Octavio breathed, and Taejoon's back arched a little as the man began fucking into him for real, hips drawing back only to snap forward quickly, harshly. “Fuck, you’re so _hot_.”

Taejoon’s cock was drooling against his stomach already, pre slick against his skin as he tried to keep his breathing under control, but it was getting hard to. He felt so _full_ , Octavio’s cock reaching places inside of him that had his spine tingling. He grit his teeth, chest fluttering as he tried to stifle his heavy breathing, but he couldn't really focus on it when Octavio was fucking him so _well_ , his athleticism resulting in speed and a steady rhythm.

He slowly lost his composure more as Octavio's cock slammed into him over and over again, the slick sound of it nearly lost to the buzzing in Taejoon's head. He found a spot on the ceiling to stare at, trying not to look at Octavio, face and chest turning an unflattering shade of red—it felt good to be fucked into for his own pleasure, he didn’t know if Octavio was really getting anything out of it, but he hardly cared. 

It just felt _good_ to be on the receiving end for once, to allow the tension to flee his shoulders as he was stuffed full of cock. Felt good to know that currently only his orgasm mattered, that Octavio wouldn't ever have to stop due to overstimulation or anything like that. He could keep going and going and _going_ until Taejoon was drooling, moaning, whining his name until it was the only thing he could think about.

 _Octavio._

He closed his eyes, sucking his lower lip between his teeth as he tried to swallow down his noises, but suddenly Octavio’s cock was brushing against _that spot,_ making his body tremble. He let out a cry that had him releasing the pillow he’d been holding onto and throwing his forearm over his mouth to bite the skin there, body on fire and blood full of electricity.

He was terrified of getting caught, but somehow that seemed almost _thrilling_ in this situation. His cock throbbed at the thought of other people hearing him cry out, knowing that he was being ruined and fucked and _filled._ He didn't know what kind of toy this was, but _hoped_ that it was the type with lube preserves, that Octavio was going to cum into him and make him feel so _full_.

Perhaps Octavio was starting to rub off on him in a way, with this heart-hammering desire to get _caught,_ but he still kept his arm pressed close to his face, stifling himself as Octavio kept hitting his prostate, cock dragging over it again and again. 

The other man managed to get Taejoon’s leg to hook over his shoulder so that he could readjust his angle slightly, pounding into him even faster. Taejoon pried his eyes open once more to look down at him and saw the way Octavio was staring at where their bodies connected, eyes glazed and face flushed, grunting lightly with each snap of his hips.

The other man then glanced up and he felt _something_ spark through him, but he didn’t know what. Fear at getting caught staring, maybe, but then Octavio was grinning at him in an almost lazy manner, not pausing in his movements.

“Wished you didn’t have to be so quiet,” he said, and his voice was still that low, honeylike register that made heat pool in his groin, toes curling. “I wanna hear you say my name.”

Taejoon would normally loathe giving the man what he wanted—it would be a cold day in hell before he cried out Octavio Silva's name, he normally told himself, but now it sat on the tip of his tongue, held back only because of how hard he was biting on his own flesh, no doubt leaving deep marks there. His free hand traveled over his chest, nails grazing one of his nipples, and he bit even harder at the pleasurable sensation.

His cock was aching in a way that almost hurt, so he started stroking himself in time to Octavio’s thrusts, breath hitching as he relieved himself of the pain. His thighs were trembling, so close to his release that he could almost taste it, but he almost didn't want it to end; wanted Octavio to fuck him well into the morning, milk him of all the cum he had like he'd done that night.

Taejoon threw his head back even more, close to crying due to a combination of the unrelenting sensation against his prostate and how hard he was biting himself to keep himself quiet. His body writhed beneath Octavio, nearing his climax as he fought back the " _ah-ah-ah"_ s deep in his throat.

“You close?” He heard Octavio ask, and he nodded frantically, hand twisting over the head of his cock, tugging harshly, hips bucking a little. Suddenly he felt _empty_ , and his body jerked as he realized that Octavio had slid out of him completely. He let his arm drop, intending to ask why he had stopped, but all that came out was a desperate whine, high-pitched and breathy because _why did you stop, you fucking idiot, fuck me!_

He then felt the other man’s hand wrap itself around his shaft, and his back arched as he let go of his cock, Octavio jerking him off now. Taejoon pulled the pillow over his head entirely and pressed his hands down on it to muffle himself, hips thrusting upwards into his tight grip. He was so, so fucking _close_ , just needed a little bit more friction, just needed a little more heat until...

His entire body tensed before he came, Octavio stroking him through his orgasm as his breathing became strained. His chest was heaving but his pants couldn’t be heard, and when he finally felt like he had relaxed enough to uncover his mouth he shoved the pillow aside, blinking the spots out of his vision as he heard it hit the floor. 

Taejoon let his hand fall against his forehead as he caught his breath, feeling the sweat beneath his knuckles as he fixated on the point in the ceiling he’d found earlier. He felt almost dizzy, disoriented from how good it had felt, and he let his legs hang over the edge of the bed, body limp and relaxed.

When he finally looked down at the mam before him, what he saw made his breath hitch again, arousal still stirring in his belly.

His cum coated Octavio’s chest and chin, the man having pulled his top down below his breasts, his piercings still managing to draw Taejoon’s attention despite the mess. His mouth went dry at the sight, and he felt his face burn as he realized that those filthy vulgar thoughts he'd had last night had come true. Octavio was fucking _hot_ in that godforsaken bikini, and ten times so with Taejoon's cum painting his chest.

Octavio himself was doing something on his phone, and when he glanced up and met Taejoon's eyes he gave a smirk before holding it out in front of him, angling his body a little. He heard his own phone buzz on his nightstand, and he closed his eyes a little, just a bit exasperated as Octavio told him,

“Now you have another picture for your collection.”

“You are aggravating,” Taejoon groaned, throatier than he’d meant to sound, and Octavio smacked his hand against his thigh before straightening up.

“I just took a shower, too,” he complained to himself, and Taejoon heard him wandering around his room, gathering up his discarded clothes. “Anyways, ‘night.”

Taejoon frowned a little before sitting up, barking out a “ _wait_ ” before Octavio could open the door because he was still _fucking_ naked. 

Taejoon stumbled to his feet, legs like jelly as he searched for a towel in the room, but found none. He instead pulled on his sweats and joined Octavio by the door, who had readjusted his top to now properly cover his chest, though it was still covered in Taejoon’s mess. It was really fucking hot, but he tried not to make it obvious he was staring as he stood next to the man.

“I’m going to shower too,” he said quietly, and Octavio flicked his finger against his stomach, which felt sticky from his pre.

“You can get me off in there, then,” he teased, opening up the door, and the cold air from the hallway made them both shiver. Taejoon would rather _not_ shower with him, but he didn’t want anyone to suspect something if they heard the shower running two separate times this late at night.

He aligned his steps with Octavio’s so that it would be hard to tell that multiple people were walking down the hallway before stepping into the bathroom with him, moonlight shining on the blue and white decoration inside.

“I am not touching you,” Taejoon said once the door had closed, voice almost a whisper, and when Octavio opened his mouth to protest he added, “I’ll make it up to you. But not in here. Not _now_.”

“Whatever,” Octavio huffed, a little louder, and Taejoon mimed a _zip-it_ motion. “You’re washing me, then. It’s _your_ mess.”

“Shut up,” Taejoon hissed, but stepped into the shower with him anyways after pulling his sweats off again. He lathered himself up with soap quickly, trying to scrub the slick feeling of his own cum away as Octavio put shampoo in his hair.

It was honestly a little cramped in here, but at least the water was hot, unlike on the dropship. Taejoon sighed as he bent his head over, carding his fingers through his hair beneath the stream of water. He felt Octavio nudge him, and when he glanced over saw him holding the resort-provided bodywash.

"C'mon," he said, and there was a smirk on his lips. "Wash me." 

Taejoon rolled his eyes. _Insufferable prick,_ he thought to himself as he snatched the bottle from him and poured a generous amount onto his fingers. Octavio had turned his back on him, hands on his hips as he waited, and Taejoon lathered the soap over his shoulders and across his back, feeling knots beneath his fingertips as he did so. He was honestly surprised that the man was so tense, and had he been a kinder person he would have offered to massage his back for him, but he wasn't. He would let him suffer.

"I recall you jizzing on my front, not my back," Octavio hummed, and Taejoon dug his nails harshly into his sides as a warning. _Yes, suffer_. "Ow, okay."

He hesitated as he slid his hand over Octavio's stomach, passing over his abs and the filters there, but he didn't want to travel higher. Didn't know if he _should_ , what he could touch and what he couldn't. He watched the shorter man in front of him tilt his head back a little, saw him roll his eyes before Octavio reached up and grabbed Taejoon's wrist, guiding his hand to his chest.

"I'm okay with you touching me," he said, voice quiet again, and after a pause Taejoon started rubbing over the skin there, more gently than he'd done for his back.

"...I just thought that..." He didn't really know _how_ to voice what he had thought out loud, words failing him as he felt his fingers graze over metal. "I mean, you always wore bras and stuff."

"Because I wasn't comfortable with you yet."

"And you're comfortable with me now?"

"A lot of guys don't like it," Octavio said, avoiding the question, and Taejoon moved away from his chest, down to his thighs instead, though this required him to press up against his back, cock filling out a little in interest, but he tried to will it away. "This was like a test. For you."

"Did I pass?" He asked, somewhat sarcastically, and Octavio shifted on his feet, leaning against his chest.

"Not really. You're too scared of me."

 _Scared? Of_ you? "I am not. You're just annoying."

"Then touch me again," Octavio demanded, and Taejoon dug his nails into his skin for the second time, reminding him to keep _quiet_. He considered just ignoring the man, urging him to hurry up and finish showering so that they could walk back together because he couldn't trust Octavio to not stomp down the hallway—but a part of him didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. Didn't want Octavio to think that he was...disgusted or turned off by him, or whatever it is that made him wait several weeks before taking his shirt off.

 _Why should you even care?_ A snide voice inside of him asked, and his hand moved slowly back up Octavio's body, hands hovering over his skin, not actually touching him, but he swore that he could feel him. They were not friends, but they did sleep together once, twice, sometimes three times a week if they could manage a Friday, and being comfortable with each other's bodies was key even if they couldn't get along. Even if he fucking hated the sound of his voice, or his spoiled attitude, or his _everything else_.

Taejoon bit on the inside of his cheek as he finally touched Octavio's chest again, hesitant at first, before cupping one of his breasts and pressing his thumb against the barbell through his nipple like he'd been wanting to do for weeks. His cock was half-hard now, brushing against the back of Octavio's thigh, and the shorter man gave a breathy sort of sigh as he leaned further into Taejoon, his own hand braced on the shower wall to keep himself steady.

His other arm was wrapped around Octavio's waist, and he was tempted to reach even further down, take his cock between his fingers until he was pliant beneath him—but they couldn't do this. Not tonight. Not right here.

So he let his hand drop and Octavio moaned at the loss of contact, barely heard over the noise of the shower as Taejoon mumbled,

"Finish washing up."

The other man was silent after that, rinsing the suds off his body as Taejoon finally started shampooing his hair, and by the time they both stepped out it was nearing midnight. They found towels in the bathroom closet, and as Taejoon started drying himself off Octavio said suddenly,

"You're going swimming with me tomorrow."

Looking up with a frown, he asked, "What?"

"You said you'll make it up to me." Octavio was staring at him, strangely earnest. "So tomorrow. You and me. Swim time."

"...I don't have a swimsuit."

"Then I'll buy you one."

Taejoon bit back a sigh, knowing that there was no use in arguing, and that he couldn't take back what he said earlier about owing the other. He'd been thinking more along the lines of _'I'll eat you out or something'_ , but this was. Whatever. At least there were no risk factors involved.

"Fine," he relented, and Octavio smiled—an actual, genuine, pretty smile that had his movements stuttering as something inside him stirred. What, he didn't know, but he was sure that it wasn't a good thing.

Nothing could be good when it came to Octavio Silva.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI I HOPE U ENJOYED THIS im not very confident w writing from the bottoms pov so *__* [cries in dumb top]
> 
> if u guys wanna see anything sexy in particular i am open to suggestions ! ;33 just for kinktober
> 
> dont be afraid to comment !!! byee


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *updates 4 months late* whoops
> 
> the crypto wattson conflict is so fucking stupid and so fucking contrived and i hate it so much and it was resolved in such a shitty manner so if it comes across that way also in that chapter i DO NOT CARE !!!! canon couldn't write it well so why should i smh/j
> 
> i also briefly reference the fact that according to tom casiello, crypto knows wraith (or voidwalker at least) but doesn't say anything to her.
> 
> anyways content warnings:  
> mild blood/injury  
> name-calling [slut/whore]  
> angry sex in general DNDIENDIEK

There was a little town some ways away from their beach, six blocks of souvenir shops and pleasant cafés that sold ice-cream and handmade chocolate. The larger city sat in the distance across a bridge, as the Legends were on their own little island—and Taejoon would much rather be staying in that city than here. The city probably had better wifi.

“This place reminds me of home,” Octavio was saying as they walked up the sloping sidewalk, past all the tall pastel shops with their large windows and colorful signs. He was completely oblivious to Taejoon's longing for air-conditioning. “But our beaches are _waayyyy_ nicer.”

Taejoon didn’t respond, instead eyeing the candy shop across from them. It was packed full of tourists and the sweet smell of it seemed to be wafting directly towards him, causing his stomach to rumble. He hadn't eaten since last night.

“Hey, are you even listening me? Yo, Kim? _Hyeon_? Can I call you Hyeon?”

“No,” Taejoon mumbled, focusing his gaze ahead of him as Octavio began poking him obnoxiously. “Crypto. _Kim_ if you must.”

“I think I’ll just give you a nickname,” Octavio hummed, completely ignoring what he'd just said. “I mean, _bonito_ is already kind of a nickname, but it’s no Señor Loincloth or Señor Cejas.”

Octavio stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk suddenly, face scrunched up as if thinking up a nickname. He was wearing a sleeveless blue croptop, sunglasses, and high-waisted jean shorts today. Taejoon thought it was an okay outfit. He was ignoring the fact that it made Octavio’s ass look great.

Octavio snapped his fingers as if hit with an epiphany, a wide grin on his face. “I got it! Señor Six Inches!”

When Octavio started moving alongside him again, Taejoon stuck his leg out to trip him, and walked past him when he flailed wildly to the ground.

They were currently out on the town so that Octavio could buy him a swimsuit as promised, though Taejoon was already starting to regret agreeing to this. He’d planned on staying cooped up inside his room the whole beach trip, not to actually _go_ to the beach. He hadn’t brought anything one would typically need for such a trip, like suntan lotion or a towel. He was, for the first time, unprepared.

Octavio had dragged him out of the house an hour ago, telling him about the town nearby, and now here he was. Being forced to visit tacky tourist shops whenever Octavio spotted something interesting.

Despite Taejoon telling him yesterday that they weren’t friends, Octavio sure acted like it, chattering away easily about things that didn’t matter to him, talking just to hear himself talk. Taejoon had mostly tuned him out by this point, occasionally letting out ‘ _hmm’s_ and ‘ _oh yeah_ ’s just to get him to stop trying to grab his attention, but apparently by doing that he’d made Octavio actually think he was interested in whatever he was saying, because when they finally entered the store they were supposed to go to Octavio asked,

“So what do you think of that?”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Taejoon said bluntly. Octavio seemed unfazed.

“Yeah, I knew you weren’t. Alright, pretty boy, let’s get you a swimsuit.”

The store was filled with beach things like swimwear, goggles, boards, and towels. Knickknacks, shells, and paintings of the sea lined shelves in the back, yellow price tags stuck to them. It smelled like aloe vera inside.

Taejoon was just going to let Octavio pick his swimsuit out, but—

“Hey, Kim!” Octavio called from the swimwear section, and held up a black speedo, bouncing his eyebrows. “Huh? _Huh_?”

Taejoon snatched it from his hands and threw it back on the shelf he’d pulled it from. “ _I’ll_ pick.”

He browsed for about a minute, scanning the selection of swimwear as he briefly considered getting the most expensive item just to piss Octavio off—but something expensive for Taejoon would probably just be pocket change for Octavio, so he grabbed a pair of cheap black-and-blue swim trunks from a rack and threw them into Octavio’s face.

“Anything else?” The younger man asked as he picked up a pair of sunglasses from a little display case. He swapped them out with the ones he was currently wearing and made a face in the mirror. “Hey, do these look cute?”

Truthfully, Octavio looked good in them. He looked good in eyewear in general, whether it be sunglasses or goggles, though it wasn’t like Taejoon was going to tell him that, so he just shrugged, noncommittal.

Octavio seemed unperturbed by his lack of response and chatted it up with the cashier as he went to purchase both the trunks and the sunglasses. Taejoon eyed the sleek black card he pulled from his wallet, seeing his name embossed in gold on the front. Fancy rich people shit that someone like him couldn’t possibly imagine having. It was sometimes easy to forget that he and Octavio were from very different worlds, but in moments like these, when the other man turned with the bag slung over his arm and asked if he wanted lunch, he was reminded of it.

“I’m _starvingggg_ ,” Octavio whined as they walked outside, his metal legs glinting in the harsh sunlight. He suddenly pointed at a restsuraunt across the street. “Look. Burgers. Wanna go? I got the bill."

Taejoon bit on the inside of his cheek before nodding. He _was_ very hungry, after all, and wouldn't say no to a free lunch if Octavio was paying.

Inside the restaurant they were able to seat themselves, and sitting side-by-side with Octavio the air between them grew...not awkward, per se, but. _Different_. That moment in the shower last night hadn’t been spoken of so far today, but Taejoon couldn’t stop thinking about it. How something between them had shifted, even if Octavio was still being obnoxious and he, harsh.

He couldn’t place his finger on _what_ , exactly, was different. Maybe it was the ease he felt in being around Octavio, now. He wasn’t _completely_ relaxed, probably never would be, but he felt less stiff, less awkward and guarded around him. He didn’t feel the need to be _on_ all the time, projecting _Crypto_ rather than Taejoon Park. Octavio had opened up somewhat to him, and for that they felt less like coworkers who fucked sometimes and more like...

Not friends. _Definitely_ not fucking friends, but one step above simple coworkers.

Something a little more.

“You’re being weird,” Octavio said suddenly, and Taejoon found himself jerked from his thoughts, eyes flickering from the spot on the counter he’d been staring at to the other man’s face. His expression was unreadable behind his sunglasses.

“How so?” Taejoon murmured, and Octavio tilted his head to the side, as if pondering his answer.

“Well, you haven’t sworn at me _once_ yet today. I think that’s a new record. No ' _f_ _uck off_ ' or ' _eat shit and die_ '.”

Taejoon arched an eyebrow. “I’ve never said that second one.”

“Yeah, _out loud_ , but I can see it on your face.” Octavio lifted up his sunglasses and suddenly did a pretty good impersonation of Taejoon’s own resting face, with his narrowed eyes, furrowed brows and downturned mouth. It was a little jarring to see. “ _I’m Crypto, oooh, I'm so hot and mysterious and I want to be alone_.”

He found the corner of his mouth twitching a little, somewhat amused, but he covered it up by rubbing beneath his nose before saying,

“You're weird today, too.”

It was Octavio’s turn to ask, “How so?”

Taejoon crossed his arms over the counter, wondering if he should take the conversation in _that_ direction. Wondering if he should jinx it, so to speak, before deciding that he didn’t care and it would probably inevitably go down that route anyways.

“You haven’t asked to suck my dick yet,” he said quietly, staring at the menu. “That must be a record, too.”

Octavio snorted. “Believe it or not, bonito, I know how to keep it in my pants.”

There was a lull in conversation as they both looked at the menu, Taejoon deciding on a simple avocado burger before resting his chin against his palm, eyes flickering around. They were pretty much alone in here, save for a family of four in a booth behind them and a cook he could see through a rectangular window in the wall. 

Despite being away from the city, there was something...calming about a tiny town like this. He didn't feel the need to check over his shoulder for stalkers so often, nor did he feel like any of the people he spoke to had hidden intent.

Perhaps, one day, Taejoon would consider living on this tiny island. Far away from the watchful eyes of the Syndicate and the Games. Far away from...

“I mean, there’s still time for me to suck your dick later," Octavio said, breaking him away from his thoughts once again.

“You mean after I’ve swam in the disgusting ocean water?” Taejoon asked flatly.

“So you’re actually gonna swim, then?”

Taejoon turned to give him a flat look. “You _said_ it’s what I owe you.”

Octavio whistled. “Damn, you take these IOU’s seriously.”

Though his whistle hadn’t been meant for her, a woman approached them as if summoned by it, a smile on her bubblegum-pink lips. She was maybe in her thirties or forties, curvy and blonde.

“Mornin’, fellas. What can I get y’all today?”

“Avocado burger and a water please,” Taejoon said quietly, and Octavio spun in his chair as he said,

“Give me whatever’s got bacon, but _double_ the bacon. Oh! And add jalapeños if you can. Do you guys have milkshakes?”

“Sure do, honey,” the bubblegum lady said in her heavy accent. “We gots vanilla, chocolate, salted caramel and butterscotch.”

“Can I mix them?”

“‘Course you can.”

“Then I want chocolate butterscotch.”

“Comin’ right up.” The bubblegum lady finished writing everything down on her little notepad. Her nails were a matching shade of pink. “I’ll get back to y'all in a second."

“She said caramel weird,” Octavio said as soon as her blonde ponytail whipped around the corner. “Car-mel.”

Taejoon found his mouth twitching again as he recalled some stupid argument he and Mila had had, years ago, over what the proper pronunciation of caramel was. “It’s care-a-mel.”

“Exactly! Who the _fuck_ says car-mel?” Octavio stopped spinning in his chair long enough to give a familiar sigh that signaled nothing good. “I’m bored.”

 _I’m bored_ might as well be Octavio’s catchphrase with how much Taejoon heard him say it. He pulled his phone from his jacket, going through it absentmindedly as he mumbled, “Of course you are.”

Bubblegum lady returned with a bottle of water and a chocolate butterscotch shake. She slid the water in front of Taejoon before handing the shake to Octavio. “Here ya go, sugar.”

“Thanks,” Octavio responded with a big smile. He really did have such a pretty smile for someone so.... _infuriating_. When the lady left them alone again, his smile was instantly replaced by his former bored expression. “Uggggh, I wanna do something crazy. Think there’s any sharks around here?”

“No,” Taejoon said as he typed something, because he’d looked into this place before his arrival. The craziest thing that was in the ocean here were urchins. Something about a force field beneath the water to prevent nastier creatures from ‘ _infiltrating_ ’ tourist destinations, despite said tourist destinations being their natural habitat.

“Aw, man. I _love_ sharks. I went swimming with them actually once in middle school ‘cuz my school went on a trip to the—” and here Octavio launched into some story about pressing buttons he shouldn’t have and grabbing onto dorsal fins. Taejoon didn’t know if he was exaggerating his story, but he sincerely hoped that he was. It sounded fucking terrifying.

“—and then my dad yelled at me but it was whatever, because I got to swim with _sharks_.”

“You’ve always had a complete and utter disregard for your own life, then,” Taejoon said dryly.

“You know it, baby!” Octavio rested his elbow on top of the bar, fixing Taejoon with a look, before suddenly changing the subject. "So what's the deal with you and Nat?"

His mood instantly soured. "There is no _deal_ between me and her."

"Guess that makes sense," Octavio said in a lofty sort of voice. "You won't even talk to her."

Taejoon narrowed his eyes at him, knowing he was being baited into having this conversation with him, though he wasn't going to fall for it. He was smarter than Octavio's games.

Realizing that he wasn't going to answer, Octavio gave a shrug and said, "Fine, don't tell me. Oh shit, wait, speaking of sharks, did I ever tell you about that time Che and I..."

He kept going until his story was over, and there was another lull in conversation, but it didn’t really matter, as their food was served to them before it could really drag on.

As they ate in silence, Taejoon kept glancing over at the other man, wondering just what was going on today. He couldn’t believe that they were having an actually... _somewhat_ pleasant conversation, and by _pleasant_ he meant it didn’t make him want to tear his hair out. The fact that Octavio had it in him to be _not_ obnoxious was maddening in of itself, and he didn't know if he should be annoyed or grateful that he'd decided to tone it back today.

When Taejoon finished eating he stood from his seat, and Octavio looked up from where he was tearing his bacon apart. He considered maybe staying here and waiting for Octavio to finish—he _was_ paying for him, after all—but Taejoon was no good at talking, and he knew that eventually Octavio would cross the threshold from _endearing_ to _unbearable_.

“I’m going back to the house," Taejoon told him.

“Oh,” Octavio almost sounded disappointed, but then he was grinning and Taejoon figured that he had imagined it. He grabbed the bag he’d set on the chair next to him and tossed it towards Taejoon. “Get ready for swim time then, beach boy.”

He gave the younger man a flat look before exiting the restaurant, blinking in the brightness of the sun. It truly was unbearable here, the sunlight. It gave Solace its ‘never-ending summer’ reputation, which would explain the line of traffic that he could see in the distance on the main island, dozens of glittering boxes that he knew must be cars heading to the beach even in the middle of March.

He was suddenly more thankful for the private beach they were occupying.

The walk back had him taking off his light jacket and tying it around his waist, though he wasn’t actually sure if that felt better or worse, because now the sun was burning his skin directly. He stopped by a local convenience store to get suntan lotion and a bottle of water, and by the time he made it back to the blue beach house there was sweat dripping from his face. 

Taejoon had been dreading going swimming, but now, standing in the heat, he couldn’t wait for it. Fuck waiting around for Octavio, he was practically melting _now_. He changed beneath the house, in the tiny area where the showerhead was, tossing his sweat-soaked tank top and jeans onto the picnic table when he was done pulling his swim trunks on.

He was just uncapping the suntan lotion when he noticed a pair of legs descending the beach house steps out of the corner of his eye, and looked up to see Ajay with a towel thrown around her shoulders, wearing a cute pink bikini.

“Hey, boy,” she greeted with a smile, and someone else thundered down the steps right behind her—Ramya. “We’re goin’ to play ball. Wanna join?”

“In the water?” He asked, and Ajay looked back at Ramya with an arched brow.

“In the water, Rams?”

“Well, my skin is melting off my face,” the other woman responded. She was wearing black athletic shorts and a patterned crop-top with long sleeves. “So eh, why not.”

“Alright, then. You joinin’, Kim?” Ajay gave him an expectant look.

Taejoon hesitated. He wasn’t really good at interacting with people, much less Ajay and Ramya, who weren’t really his typical crowd, but he knew that he would feel awkward just standing in the water or swimming by himself. _Like some kind of loser,_ Mila’s voice said in his mind, so he looked over at the girls and gave a shrug of his shoulders.

“Sure," he mumbled, trying to fight back the anxiety already threatening to creep up his spine.

The girls lathered up in suntan lotion too before the three of them stepped out onto the beach. The hot sand beneath his feet was honestly kind of unbearable, and he practically hopped across it, hoping that the water would be better.

Taejoon had never actually _been_ in the ocean before—Gaea was mostly farmland as far as the eye could see—so he wasn’t expecting to wade into the water and then immediately yell out in pain as he stepped on something sharp.

“Be careful!” Ajay laughed as she and Ramya waded past him, unfazed. “There’s shells all about here. Couple more feet and it’s all smooth, I promise.”

“Promise you won’t cry when I kick your arse?” Ramya asked as he hissed beneath his breath, carefully feeling the area in front of him around with his toes. There were more ridges and sharp corners of half-buried shells. “I’m taking that as a no, then?”

Taejoon glared up at her as he walked forward slowly, though he picked up the pace when he finally set his foot down and felt nothing but smooth ocean floor. The water was up to his thighs now, but for Ajay it was all the way up to her waist, so they stopped there and stood in a triangle as Ramya held the volleyball above her head.

“Losers owe the winner money,” she declared.

“How, exactly, would we decide a winner?” Taejoon asked flatly.

“We go until one of us fumbles, then it’s gonna be one-on-one. _Easy_.”

“How much?” Ajay asked before Taejoon could tell her _no_. 

“Fifty units,” Ramya said.

“Deal.”

Like Taejoon, the water was only up to Ramya’s thighs, as she was about the same height as him. Maybe that would be an advantage to the two of them. He couldn’t imagine moving through the water at Ajay’s height would be easy. 

Ramya served the ball towards Ajay, who wasn’t paying attention, adjusting the strap of her bikini. Taejoon opened his mouth to warn her, but before he could it smacked the side of her face and flopped into the water.

“ _Ramya_!” She shouted, hand on her cheek, and Ramya cackled. “I wasn’t ready!”

The two of them went back and forth as Taejoon glanced around them, trying to see if they were alone or not. Distantly, he could see someone water-skiing, but they were too far from the Legends’ private beach for him to really make anything out. 

Makoa was resting on the deck of the beach house in a lounging chair. Loba was leaning against the railing and gazing out at them. She waggled her fingers at him when she noticed him looking in her direction, her crimson nails seeming to glint in the sun. He hesitated before waving back, a weak, half-hearted motion before letting his hand fall back down to his side.

He wasn’t really used to interacting with the others yet; he felt like a stranger in their midst. Hell, Ramya, who had been here for only a few months, felt more like _part of the group_ than he did—but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. He was a fake, after all, a pretender who had infiltrated them to eliminate them, who hadn’t formed any _real_ connections in his time here.

Well...that wasn’t _entirely_ true. There was— _had been_ —Natalie, before the incident with Nox. There was Witt, though they didn’t really have a _connection_ ; just a rivalry that was mostly manufactured for the cameras. There was Renee, obviously, though she wasn’t the Renee he had known. And Octavio...

“What the hell?” 

As if summoned by his thoughts, there the other man was, wading through the water with a fake-outraged expression. He was wearing a loose black t-shirt and green shorts. “You guys are having fun _without_ me?!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so _slow_ ,” Ajay teased, good-natured. It was nice seeing her let loose.

“Can you believe we got _this_ weirdo to join?” Ramya asked, gesturing to Taejoon, who shot her a dirty look. “He was gonna swim all by himself before we came out.”

“What kinda loser goes swimming by themself?” Octavio asked, as if he hadn’t planned to join him. Taejoon narrowed his eyes before leaning down to scoop up some water, splashing it right into Octavio’s face, causing him to sputter and wipe furiously at his eyes. Ajay laughed at him.

“This loser,” Taejoon said quietly.

“Change of rules, guys,” Ramya said, and they all looked towards her. “If Octavio loses he has to pay all of us fifty.”

“Sure,” Taejoon agreed.

“ _What_?!” Octavio yelled.

The game that followed was probably the most fun Taejoon had had in awhile, mostly because every time someone served towards Octavio they would try and hit it as far out of his reach as possible. It was funny seeing him flail about, leaping into the air every time it soared over his head or otherwise lurching to the side, catching the ball just in time. Ajay ended up being the first out, missing a ball that flew just beneath her outstretched hand, though Ramya assured her that if they got Octavio out he’d still have to pay her.

“I never agreed to this,” Octavio complained.

“Think of this as an IOU for making me come out here,” Taejoon said. Octavio splashed him with water.

“You coming out here was because you owed _me_ in the first place, compadre."

“What’d you owe him for?” Ramya asked, interested, as she served the ball towards Taejoon. He backed up a little as it came towards him, before managing to hit it at Octavio, aiming for high above his head. The shorter man was able to jump up and catch it despite his best effort to hit it out of reach.

“He bought me lunch,” Taejoon said, which was technically true, even if that wasn’t why he actually owed Octavio. “The burger bar in town.”

“You guys ate lunch together?” Ajay asked curiously, and he nodded. “Silva actually sat down long enough to eat lunch with someone?”

“I was hungry,” Octavio said, not looking at her. “I hadn’t eaten since last night.”

“You sat down and ate lunch with _Kim?_ ”

Taejoon was too busy trying not to get hit in the face by Ramya’s serve to hear Octavio’s answer, but he was able to hear Ajay’s response as he hit it to him.

“Of course I don’t believe you, why would you eat lunch with him? No, sorry, why would he eat lunch with _you_?”

Octavio didn’t make an effort to catch the ball. It hit his shoulder as he gave Ajay a look that Taejoon couldn’t interpret.

“Maybe I’m just _that_ irresistible,” he said, tone still relatively light, but Taejoon didn’t like the direction that this conversation was possibly heading.

“We happened to meet in town, and I forgot my wallet,” Taejoon said, and they both looked towards him. “He offered to buy me lunch, but in return I had to go swimming with him. That was all.”

“Sounds like him,” Ajay said, and Ramya pointed at Octavio.

“You’re out, Silva. _Fifty_. Hand it over.”

“Man, _whatever_ ,” Octavio said, turning his back on them and wading back out of the water. “Alright, _fine_ , I’ll be back. _Pendejos._ ”

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, others joining the four of them in the water until Taejoon had had enough of it. At some point being in the water had gone from feeling pleasant to just making him feel dirty, so he left the group behind and stepped carefully over the shells again before he was dripping water onto the burning sand.

He pushed his hand through his damp hair, sweeping it out of his eyes as he glanced up—and paused when he saw Natalie standing under the beach house in a sundress, watching him. He’d intended to rinse off beneath the showerhead before heading upstairs, but now he just considered climbing up the stairs instead, pretending he hadn’t seen her.

Before he could make a decision, though, Natalie said quietly, “Hello, Hyeon.”

“...Natalie,” he said, staring at the ground by her feet. She was wearing chunky sandals today. “Are you going swimming?”

“I do not care for the beach,” she said honestly. “Sand makes me uncomfortable.”

“Yeah.” He could see why. “Well. I’m going upstairs.”

“You look like you are having fun.” Her words sounded strangely stiff. "I'm happy for you."

“Right.”

He waited for her to say more. She didn’t.

Climbing up the white stairs, he glanced behind him to watch the others for a minute, splashing around in the water. Ramya had let her hair out of its ponytail. Ajay was lying on a towel. Makoa and Anita were talking to Octavio, whose shirt was now soaking wet and sticking to him.

Taejoon could see the outline of his tank top beneath it. He didn’t know why he had thought that he was maybe wearing the bikini beneath his shirt instead.

Suddenly remembering what had transpired last night and the new image on his phone, Taejoon felt his face heat up in a way that had nothing to do with the setting sun and entered the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind him, startling Witt out of his nap on the couch.

He showered and got dressed into night clothes, a pair of sweats and a loose shirt. He planned to work on Hack’s code tonight, because while he was here he could at least get _something_ done. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before disappearing into his room.

As he worked on his computer, Taejoon swore that he could feel the phantom sensation of the waves from the ocean washing over his body, though it was rather pleasant, and he found his eyes drifting shut several times as he worked. Soon the sun set all the way, leaving his room in darkness. Everyone had entered the house again at some point, footsteps thundering past his door and the shower running nonstop for a good two hours.

There was suddenly a loud knock on his door, and Taejoon jerked awake, having dozed off with his hot laptop resting on his thighs. Before he could move or say anything, his door was being thrown up and Octavio was slipping inside, his hair wet. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said in greeting, shutting the door behind him, before practically jumping onto the bed. He smelled of vanilla rather than the beach, so he must have just finished showering. “Wanna watch a movie with us?”

Taejoon blinked at him, vision slightly blurred, before shifting his computer from his lap and asking tiredly, “Who’s ‘us’?”

“Me, ‘Koa, Anita, Loba, and Che. Pathfinder maybe, but he was being chased by seagulls last time I saw him and I dunno if he’s gotten rid of them yet.”

Taejoon felt like he had already drained his social battery today, playing that volleyball game in the water, so he just shook his head, mumbling, “No. I’m going to bed soon.”

“Oh,” Octavio said. Just like earlier at the burger bar, he sounded disappointed, but quickly changed. “Well, thanks for swimming with me today, amigo. See, you _can_ be Not Boring!”

“Get out,” Taejoon said.

“No way! I was only gonna watch the movie if _you_ did.” Octavio crawled closer to him, and Taejoon was prepared for him to ask something inappropriate, or try initiating something—but instead Octavio just collapsed right next to him with a groan. “Can you still feel the ocean?”

“Get out,” Taejoon repeated.

“Natalie said it has something to do with your brain, but I honestly kinda tuned her out ‘cuz I didn’t understand anything she was saying.” Octavio blinked up at him, and fuck, he was too close. “Have you talked to her yet?”

He had swung his legs over the side of the bed, turning his back on the other man, but at this question he hissed through grit teeth, “Silva. Get. _Out_.”

The mattress shifted, and he heard the metallic sound of Octavio getting back to his feet. “That's a _no_ , then.”

He heard his door open, heard the sound of Loba asking if everyone liked caramel popcorn—before Octavio spoke one last time.

“Y’know, she’s really chill. I think if you guys actually fucking talked you wouldn’t be, like, _stupid_ around each other.” There was a pause. "'Night. Hope ya dream of me."

Octavio shut the door behind him before Taejoon could think of a retort. Now that he was finally alone he allowed himself to lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Octavio's words and close proximity to him just a second ago left him feeling warm despite his earlier exhaustion, and with an annoyed sigh he got to his feet, locking the door.

 _Hope ya dream of me._ If only he knew the dreams that Taejoon had of him, he thought bitterly to himself as he bent down to search for his lube.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd touched himself to the thought of Octavio, but that didn't exactly make him feel better about it as he pulled his sweats down to grab hold of his cock, stroking it to hardness as he used his other hand to brace himself against the wall. He knew if he did this he would fall asleep more quickly, though it wasn't like he really needed it right now, as he was already tired.

That was just an excuse.

Taejoon groaned beneath his breath as he leaned heavily against the wall, cock hot beneath his touch as he jerked himself off, sweats down to his knees. He'd told himself that that he wasn't so pathetic as to masturbate to the thought of Octavio on his first day here, but the second day was just as bad. In fact, doing this at _all_ was pretty pathetic of him—and yet he could hardly muster up the energy to care as he thrusted shallowly into his hand, imagining that it was Octavio's mouth on him.

He remembered that picture again; Octavio's top pulled beneath his breasts, piercings as eye-catching as ever even with the cum coating his chest. Taejoon imagined that specific image of Octavio sucking him off, imagined cumming down his throat or, even better, pulling out of the other's hot mouth in order to add to the mess on his skin. 

Taejoon bit into his knuckles, fighting back a breathy moan as his hips bucked forward. Imagined fucking Octavio, imagined Octavio fucking _him_ , curling his fingers against his prostate again, making him see stars. Imagined forgetting all his troubles, feeling nothing but pleasure, and he let out an involuntary moan as he recalled the feeling of Octavio's cock inside him.

Taejoon eventually came into his hand with a low whine, exhaustion clinging to every bone of his body. He grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and wiped his hand, tossing it into the trash can before squirting hand sanitizer into his palm. 

When he felt satisfied with his level of cleanliness he let himself flop onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to drift off to sleep, now, aided by his post-orgasm haze, but as he laid there he kept thinking, against his will, of the other thing Octavio had said.

Some part of Taejoon knew that he was right, that he and Natalie needed to talk to one another for _real_. Not just the half-assed apology he’d said to her that had barely covered anything, even though, if Taejoon was being entirely honest, he didn’t think that _he_ was the one who should be apologizing.

Natalie didn’t need to apologize, either. They just...needed to reconcile, now that Nox was out of the equation, and talk to one another. _Actually_ talk, not just awkward exchanges beneath a beach house. Being stuck with Octavio as his only ‘friend’ these past few weeks had made him realize how much he missed talking to her.

Maybe, tomorrow...if tomorrow was a good day, like today had been...maybe he would talk to her then.

* * *

The next day reminded Taejoon of how truly limited his ‘social interaction’ meter was. Makoa pounded on his door, announcing that he’d made pancakes for everyone, and he’d been forced to sit between Bloodhound and Ramya during breakfast, right in front of the syrup, so everyone had kept asking him to pass it around.

Afterwards he helped Makoa wash the dishes because he was asked to, and then Makoa had said something about Natalie too, though _that_ wasn’t anything new. He’d been trying to get the two of them to talk to each other for a while now, always trying to be so _helpful,_ and Taejoon found himself just nodding to his words and quietly humming to let him know that he was listening. 

By the time eleven hit, Taejoon was already tired of talking to people. He secluded himself in his room for the next couple of hours, getting lost in his work on Hack’s code. He was only able to work on it for so long, though, because he found himself running into the same walls he had before, leaving him frustrated. 

Taejoon had just picked up his horror novel to continue reading it when there was a knock on his door, and he got to his feet in order to answer it. It was Renee, dressed in her usual all-black, though decidedly more suitable for the hot weather.

“Hi,” she greeted quietly, and he gave her a short nod. “Path and I are going to get lunch for everyone. What kind of tacos do you like?”

“...Regular tacos?” Taejoon said.

“No, she means, like, barbacoa or pastor, dude,” came Octavio’s voice, and the two of them turned to see him emerging from his room. “Yo, ‘Nee, where’s Nat?”

“Outside,” Renee responded coolly. “Why?”

“No reason,” Octavio said, before winking at Taejoon, non-subtly. He had no idea why the _fuck_ Octavio was trying so hard to get him to talk to Natalie all the sudden, but he found himself growing hot beneath his collar as Renee’s eyes slid from Octavio to Taejoon.

“I’ll just pick for you,” she told him as Octavio disappeared into the bathroom, and Taejoon clenched his teeth.

“Fine by me,” he muttered. Renee looked him up and down, before turning on her heel and walking towards the front door, where he could see Pathfinder waiting outside, bouncing on his feet. She paused though, still facing the door as she said,

“She’s on the cliff about half a mile from here. She said she wanted to watch the boats.”

“Right,” he said stiffly. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she said, and disappeared. Taejoon looked over his shoulder, paranoid that someone had overheard their interaction, but he was by himself in the hallway. It seemed that everyone else was either in their room or out doing something, swimming perhaps.

He went back into his room, picking his book up again, but as he read the same line over and over again he realized that he couldn’t focus. Not when he knew where Natalie was.

Would Natalie even listen to what he had to say, or would this turn out like the _rest_ of their conversations—awkward, stilted, not meeting each others’ eyes?

He knew that they would never move past that stage magically on their own. Taejoon was _tired_ of living inside his own head, tired of being alone without someone he could actually talk to, someone who _understood_ him and could keep up with him. He missed Natalie. He missed being her friend.

Before he could change his mind he threw on a light jacket, black, matching his pants, before stepping out into the hallway again. The floorboard creaked beneath his feet, and he stiffened, wondering if anybody would hear him leaving and try to follow—but nobody stepped out from their room. Not even Octavio.

Taking a deep breath, Taejoon stepped out onto the deck, where he could see Loba and Anita sitting side-by-side on the beach. The two of them seemed too engrossed in... _whatever_ they were doing to pay attention to him, so he walked down the white steps carefully, before walking around the house so that he wouldn’t be seen by anyone else stepping out onto the deck.

He knew the cliff that Renee had been referring to—an outcropping of rocks beaten by the waves, leaving the sides smooth, right by the sea wall. It wasn’t really a cliff, but he didn’t know any other word for it. One could see all the ships traveling to the main island from there, and aside from the whipping wind, it was a quiet spot. Perfect for Natalie.

He could see her well before he arrived, standing at the top of it in her jeans and blue top. She wore a sunhat today to protect her face from the sun’s harsh rays, though as he approached a dark gray cloud passed over it, providing them relief. As he climbed up the rocks carefully, he could feel mist from when the waves splashed against the sides of the thing, dampening his clothes. It felt nice.

“Hey,” he said quietly in greeting, and Natalie looked over her scarred shoulder at him before turning to face the boats again.

“Bonjour, Hyeon,” she said, equally as low, and they stood like that for a couple of seconds. He followed her line of sight, trying to make out everything ahead of them. The biggest boat he could see was a huge cruise ship drifting slowly across the horizon, leaving behind thick white clouds in its wake. 

“Why are you here?” Natalie asked bluntly, and Taejoon bit on the inside of his cheek, looking down at his feet as he shifted his stance. He wondered if he should beat around the bush or just be direct.

“I wanted to talk to you," he told her, deciding on the latter. She turned her face slightly towards him, as if to show that she was listening, but her electric blue eyes remained focused on the ships. There were so many of them today.

“About...everything’s that happened.” His throat suddenly felt dry as he watched her lower lip quiver, just slightly. Just enough to let him know that the incident was still fresh in her mind, as it was his. “And about me.”

Natalie gave him no reply. Taejoon looked over his shoulder, feeling as though someone was watching him, but there was no one walking along the sea wall, nor was anyone in the water around them. He could distantly see the blue beach house from here, but the huge stretch of sand between here and there was empty.

Nobody was here. It was a private area.

“Everything that happened between us, it was...” He searched for words, the _right_ words, not wanting to anger her immediately. “It was Nox’s fault. It was him that set us up to be at odds.”

No response.

“I just wish that you would talk to me again.”

“I don’t really know what to say,” Natalie said, finally looking up at him. “I used to feel like we were friends, but now I feel that I hardly know you at all. That I can't trust you."

“Because you don’t.” The words slipped out easily, and he let his eyes slide shut, wanting to regret what he’d just said, but they felt so _close_. He trusted Natalie, missed talking to her, missed having a _connection_ with someone, and they had been on the cusp of it before it had been ripped away from them. From _him._

“What do you mean?” Natalie asked, frowning at him, and Taejoon turned away from her, scanning the beach again. He knew they were alone, knew that nobody, not even the paparazzi, could find them here, but...

Well, there was truly no safe place for him to disclose this information. At least somewhere like _here_ , with the high winds and their seclusion from everyone else, was better than him doing this on the fucking dropship.

Telling her...the truth.

“My name isn’t Hyeon Kim,” he said, looking back at Natalie, and hated the way her eyes widened. He felt like his stomach had dropped all the way down to the Earth's core.

“What do you mean?” She asked, confused, and he took a deep breath to steady his rapidly beating heart.

“My name is Taejoon Park,” he said, and Natalie’s mouth parted as though she was trying to figure out what to say. Her short blonde hair was blown into her face, and her sunhat shifted, so she brought her scarred hand up to take hold of the top of it and hold it in place.

“What are you saying?” Her eyes met his. “Why would you—?”

“You can’t trust someone you don’t know,” he said quickly, his anxiety coming back, digging its claws into him. “And you _didn’t_ know me. I’m telling you now who I am, and I’m _not_ Hyeon Kim, and I’m _not_ from Solace.”

Natalie stared at him, before her lips quirked up a little at the corners, and then she was giggling. Just a little. He didn’t know why, and found himself asking, a little frustrated, “ _Why_ are you laughing?”

“I don’t mean to,” Natalie said, glancing away from him. “I’m sorry. I don’t like having serious conversations like this. May I ask why you hid your name from everyone?”

“...There are people after me,” Taejoon said, and it felt like a weight being lifted off his chest. Like he had been tied to something that had been dragging him down, down into the murky depths of monstrous waters, and being able to say his name out loud was his way of letting it go. Even if doing so terrified him. "Nobody can know that I am Taejoon Park, but I want _you_ to know. I know that I can trust you, Natalie.”

There was silence, and all he could hear was the distant trills of seagulls and the waves hitting the rocks around them. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, Natalie said,

“I’m sorry for everything that happened between us. I’m sorry about the people after you. Do you think that you’d be able to tell me why?”

Relief flooded through him, and Taejoon nodded silently, unable to find his words, unable to tell her how much it meant that she was willing to listen to him, to hear what he had to say. 

“Some day, but not now.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

“I don’t trust anybody like I trust you.” He took hold of her wrist gently, and she looked in his eyes again. “You can’t tell _anyone_ my name. _Please_.”

Natalie beamed at him, and he felt warm. “I won’t. I promise.”

They both stared out at the sea comfortably, Taejoon with his hands in his pockets, before Natalie began to talk again.

“I’m glad people are able to tell me their secrets. Renee has told me so much, and now you.” She lifted her hand to hold her sunhat in place again as the wind grew stronger, more clouds forming overhead. “That's what friends are for, right?"

Taejoon smiled to himself, just a little. "Right. Friends."

"Do you want to head back together?”

He nodded his head towards the distant blue box that was their resort. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up in a bit.”

Natalie walked carefully off the rocks, arms spread to keep her balance, and he watched her climb up the sea wall so that she was walking on it. It seemed that her hatred of sand made her unable to walk across it even in sneakers. How she could stand to fight in Kings’ Canyon was beyond him.

Taejoon gazed out at the sea, watching the rolling waves with a certain feeling of tranquility that he hadn’t felt in... _years_. He didn’t remember the last time that he’d felt like he could relax, or that something was going _right_ in his life. Years of looking over his shoulder, of running away and being on guard left him constantly feeling thin, stretched beyond his limit—but now he _could_ relax. Rest.

Even if just for a moment. Even if it was just one person, someone who knew his real identity, and would soon know the truth about what had happened to him. That he was _innocent_ , and undeserving of the things that had come his way—and maybe, just maybe, Natalie could help him.

He knew it was a silly fantasy, and that he shouldn’t expect anything of her, but...

“Taejoon Park, huh?”

Taejoon bit so hard on the inside of his cheek that he could taste blood. His hands were in his pockets, but he had, foolishly enough, not brought a knife or any sort of weapon with him, so he could not turn around and hold it up to this fool’s face. He turned on his heel to see Octavio climbing up, slightly unsteady as his metal feet slid against wet rock.

The brief feeling of calm was rapidly fading away, like holding water in his fingers, and all Taejoon could think right now through the blanket of dread overcoming him was _Fuck._

“How much did you overhear?” Taejoon asked coolly, his exterior calm despite the panic rising through him, because Octavio Silva was the _last_ fucking person he would ever tell his real name to. "Where _were_ you?"

“Eh, behind that rock there, and pretty much all of it.” Octavio was standing beside him now, staring up at him with an unreadable expression, hazel eyes sharper than he'd ever seen them. “Enough to know that Hyeon isn’t your real name, you’re probably a fugitive, _and_ you don’t trust me.”

“Why would I?” Taejoon snapped, and Octavio shrugged. “You fucking _followed me_ and eavesdropped. And for the record, I do not trust _anyone_.”

“Except Nat,” Octavio pointed out. Taejoon was able to pick up on the bitter hint of something in his voice, now, which didn't make _sense_ but all he could focus on now was the fear rushing through his veins.

“Why do you _care_?” He hissed, grabbing Octavio’s forearm roughly and pulling him close, trying to get a better look at his face. He’d done a background check on Octavio, knew he didn’t have any particular loyalties to the Syndicate beyond participating in the Games, so he wasn’t worried that he would tell anyone, but he didn’t like the way he couldn’t read the other man’s face right now, didn’t like the fact that Octavio fucking _knew_.

“I _don’t_ care,” Octavio said, trying to yank his arm from Taejoon’s grip, expression now visibly sour. “Let go of me, asshole.”

“Do not tell anyone,” Taejoon hissed at him, not listening, digging his fingers harshly into his flesh. “Do you understand me? You are not to tell _anyone_.”

“Let _go._ ” Octavio was trying to pry Taejoon’s fingers from his grip now, brows furrowed and lips turned down into a scowl.

“Why did you follow me?” He demanded, because he had to know, had to know if he had made a mistake doing this thing with Octavio, researching him, if the other had hidden his tracks and _fuck,_ that would explain why he was so interested in him, how could he be such a fucking _idiot—_

“Why do you _care_?” Octavio shot back, voice raised.

“Because you _followed_ me!” Taejoon finally did let go of him, only for his hand to immediately shoot out and grab Octavio’s wrist when the other man tried to stumble away. “ _Tell me_ you will not tell anyone. Because if you do, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Octavio challenged, lifting his chin up in a defiant manner. His anger amplified at this small movement, and Taejoon pulled Octavio closer to him, just enough to make his body twist and bend over, just enough to make eye contact with him and see, for the first time, a flash of fear in his eyes.

“I’ll kill you.”

There was a long pause, Octavio staring up at him as Taejoon tried to figure out what to do with him, if he should threaten him with blackmail or find some other way to ensure that he wouldn’t fucking squeal. He felt unsure of where Octavio's loyalties lied, if he had any loyalties at _all_ and didn't just follow Taejoon in order to be obnoxious, but he did know now that he couldn't trust this man with something as precious as the truth—but it seemed as if Octavio had learned it anyway, against his will.

Taejoon squeezed Octavio’s wrist, a thinly-veiled threat, and all the younger man had to say was,

“Hot.”

The wind whipped in his ears, through his hair, and distantly, he could hear the foghorns of the arriving ships on the main island. He wasn't entirely sure if he had heard Octavio right, so Taejoon let go of him, staring.

“What do you mean, _hot_?”

Octavio massaged his wrist, though his eyes never left Taejoon's face, and Taejoon realized, standing this close to him, that there were flecks of gold amidst the hazel.

“Wanna know why I followed you, _Crypto_?” Octavio asked, and the way he said his name was drawn-out, sarcastic. “Because I was gonna ask if you wanted to have sex on the beach, dumbass—or maybe hug you if you were crying your eyes out."

Taejoon was gaping now, he knew, because he didn't know what the fuck Octavio was talking about, right now, but Octavio just kept going.

"It all depended on how Nat was gonna react, and it went _well_ , I guess, because you told her your _big secret,_ or whatever."

“... _That’s_ why you wanted me to talk to her?” Taejoon asked, some part disbelieving, but another part of him knew that this was entirely in-character for Octavio. “So, in case it went well, you could make a _proposition_ to me?”

Octavio threw his hands up in the air, and Taejoon took note of the faintest hint of pink coming into his cheeks. “Well, when you say it like _that!_ ”

Taejoon wondered just how illegal it would be to push Octavio off this cliff.

“Look, you’re a douchebag, and your head’s so far up your ass I don’t think you know when it’s daytime! I just figured if you could _get over_ Nat, you would...” Octavio gave a shrug, lips pursed. “I dunno. Stop being like _that_.”

“ _I’m_ a douchebag?” Taejoon demanded, fury making its return, and Octavio nodded. “ _You_ followed me!”

“I didn’t think you were a fucking criminal!” Octavio cried, and Taejoon grabbed him again, pulling him close.

“Shut _up_ ,” he hissed, but he had apparently yanked too hard, because Octavio’s metal feet gave way due to the slick wet rock beneath them and he fell down, grabbing hold of Taejoon’s shirt as he went tumbling. 

Taejoon landed hard on his knee, letting out a cry of pain. He felt Octavio beneath him, groaning, and when he looked over at the other, saw him holding his bloodied elbow up to examine the scrape there.

“Shit,” Octavio hissed in pain, and Taejoon became uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was on top of Octavio now. He shifted onto his other knee, taking the weight off his hurt one with a gasp. He looked down at Octavio, rubbing his fingers over the cut and coating his fingers in his own blood as he did so. That probably wasn't sanitary, but he didn't think the other man knew the definition of that word.

“I’m sorry,” Taejoon finally said after a long while, voice stilted. “But you shouldn’t have followed me.”

“No, I get it,” Octavio groaned, letting his arm fall as he stared up at the sky. The clouds hadn’t gone away yet, still covering the sun, and now that Taejoon was looking over his shoulder he realized that he could see a storm brewing in the distance. That must be why all the ships were returning. “You’re a fucking weirdo. I should’ve known you’d, like, kill me if I knew all your secrets.”

They stared at one another as the wind kept howling, blowing chilling mist onto them. Taejoon realized how close he was to Octavio now, straddling his waist, and he only realized it because he watched Octavio’s hazel eyes flicker to his lips and then back up to meet his eyes again.

“You were serious,” Taejoon said quietly, and Octavio’s throat bobbed in a swallow. “You followed me because you wanted to have sex.”

“Or pat you on the back if you were sad,” Octavio added. Taejoon bit back a scoff before looking over at the beach house, little more than a pastel square. Natalie was long gone, though he could see two distant specks that must be Loba and Anita, still. Nobody was coming towards them.

Was he seriously considering it in the back of his mind? It wasn't like this would be the first time they’d had sex in a risky place, but should he really risk continuing to take part in this relationship when Octavio knew the truth about him? Especially after _what_ he had just done?

He braced his hands on either side of Octavio, leaning over him to see his reaction. Taking note of the way the other man’s breath hitched, his eyes never leaving his face, as Octavio squeezed his legs together beneath him. His fury had yet to fade away, mingling with his agitation, and he remembered thinking, several weeks ago, that Octavio often walked the thin line between Taejoon's anger and arousal.

“You’re not going to tell anyone?” Taejoon breathed, and he wasn’t even sure if his voice could be heard over the howling wind, but Octavio nodded all the same, almost eager. “Good.”

He leaned down, down, until they were nose-to-nose, making sure that the intention could be heard in his voice, the very real threat that he was capable of hurting Octavio if he so desired. The warning, the unspoken things he would do to the other man if he detected even a hint of betrayal. “I’m not a killer. Don’t turn me into one.”

“You participate in a bloodsp—” Octavio’s sarcastic reply was cut off by Taejoon kissing him, harsh, just to get him to _shut up_. His cock was on its way to half-hard in his pants from their proximity, practically a Pavlovian response at this point to having Octavio beneath him, and with hands still shaking from anxiety he ripped Octavio’s shorts off of him, exposing his bare thighs to the cool water still spraying on them from when waves met their rock.

They had no time for foreplay, no time for any build-up other than the anger Taejoon felt as he undid the belt of his pants, placing it beside him in a secure spot so that it wouldn’t fall off the side of the cliff. He was still angry that Octavio had followed him, overheard his secret, his confession to Natalie that should have remained _private_ , and he would deal with his anger how he always dealt with it, nowadays. 

By fucking Octavio’s brains out.

He could see the anticipation in Octavio’s eyes, in the way he bit on his lower lip as Taejoon tugged his underwear down for him, grabbing hold of one of his metal legs and pushing it up, out from his underwear so that he didn’t have to bother with taking it off completely. His nails dug into the younger man's thigh as he did so, hoping to communicate his anger, let the other man feel it through pain, but Octavio barely reacted, glancing to the side at the long stretch of beach next to them.

“What if someone catches us?” Octavio asked, nearly breathless already, as Taejoon pulled his own underwear down, just enough to expose his cock to the chilled air. He pushed Octavio’s legs apart to get a better look at his cunt, seeing that he was already wet, and felt a growl rise through his throat.

He lined up his cock with the other’s entrance before glancing around one final time, seeing that they were well and truly alone on their private beach. He pushed his cock inside Octavio, leaning over him again as he did so and hissing, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Octavio moaned as Taejoon went deeper inside him, balanced on his elbow now while his other hand gripped Octavio’s bare hip. The rocky surface was rough against him, but thankfully he was touching it with as little skin as possible. Octavio, however, was wearing only a croptop now, leaving his skin to get roughed up and torn against the cliff. 

Taejoon didn’t care. That was what the other man deserved for eavesdropping on him. 

He fucked into Octavio, snapping his hips forward and drinking in every gasp Octavio made, either from pain or pleasure, he couldn’t tell, but it was definitely a mixture of both. He could see blood from Octavio’s elbow dripping onto the rocks beneath them, but Octavio hardly seemed bothered—instead he spread his legs wider, clutching onto Taejoon as his thrusts sped up, working his cock deep inside him. His eyes kept flicking around, from side to side and above him, looking upside down at the sea wall, as if searching for something, some _one._

“You _want_ to get caught,” Taejoon stated quietly, and Octavio nodded even if it wasn’t a question. He wanted to insult him, berate him, knew _exactly_ what made Octavio tick but didn’t know if he would be saying it for Octavio’s benefit or for his, as an outlet for his anger. Petty name-calling, leaving bruising marks on Octavio's hip—it was all he had at the moment. “Because you’re a fucking slut. That’s exactly why you followed me.”

Followed him and listened to him and Natalie’s conversation, and for _what_? So that they could have sex on the beach if it went well? Hoping that Taejoon would fuck his wanting pussy, just like he did every week? He grit his teeth, frustration building up inside him because why couldn't Octavio just _wait_ , they had sex three times a week, hell, they had the whole week _off_ —but the other man was impatient, one of his key characteristics, and Taejoon hated himself for doing this thing with him when he was fully aware of that.

“Shit,” Octavio groaned at his words, running a hand through his hair. There were tears in his eyes, face flushing a deep red. “Fuck, so what if I am? So what if I _did_?”

Taejoon adjusted the way he was kneeling against the cliff surface, angling his hips to fuck deeper into Octavio, rough with his movements. He was gripping Octavio’s thighs now, could feel thin beads of blood against his fingers from where they’d been scraped, but Octavio didn’t say anything about it, just stared up at Taejoon, clearly expecting an answer.

“You couldn’t go—” Taejoon punctuated his next words with sharp thrusts of his hips, enjoying the way Octavio’s face twisted. “ _Two days_ without my cock, you fucking—”

Taejoon’s voice had risen, and he bit on his tongue, knowing that they were still outside, in public, and glanced over his shoulder towards the beach house. He wondered if the others would be able to see them if they looked in this direction. If they would be able to make out anything more than two Taejoon and Octavio-colored blobs. 

He remembered, two nights ago, a small desire to get _caught._ Caught impaled on Octavio's cock, twisting, groaning, unable to think of anything else other than the man between his legs. He remembered thinking that Octavio was rubbing off on him, and this thought returned as he imagined someone stumbling upon them, seeing Octavio spread beneath him and moaning, like some kind of...

“Say it,” Octavio growled, cutting through his thoughts like a knife through butter, fingers curling into Taejoon’s biceps harshly. “You’re so fucking _hot_ when you say it, _por favor._ ”

It was clear Octavio was getting off on this, not caring about the anger in Taejoon’s voice or behind his movements. How could he, when Taejoon was giving him _exactly_ what he had wanted despite what he had done? Octavio had gotten his wish, fucking himself on Taejoon's cock on a beach cliff, and Taejoon showed no signs of putting a stop to it. How could he, when there was heat inside him, a mixture of anger and arousal begging to be released?

It seemed that Octavio grew impatient of waiting for him to degrade him on his own, and instead started whining, begging, writhing now as he let go of Taejoon’s arms and let them drop, hands by his face as his voice got lower, dripping honey.

“ _Fuck_ , I love your cock, cariño,” Octavio groaned, and his words just made Taejoon’s blood burn hotter. “I love the way you fuck me. I don’t care if that makes me a slut, I love feeling you inside me, and I don’t care if I’m a fucking whore for following you out here, because you’re _just_ as much of a whore as I am.”

“Shut up,” Taejoon hissed, face heating up in his anger, but Octavio kept going, didn’t have an ‘ _off_ ’ switch to speak of.

“The whole reason you came here was so that I could fuck you,” Octavio said, and Taejoon grit his teeth as he sped up in his thrusts, Octavio’s wet heat clenching around his cock and bringing him closer to the edge. 

“The whole reason I came here was because you sent me those fucking photos of you in a bikini,” Taejoon said, voice dangerously steady, ignoring the satisfied hum Octavio let out as he fell right into his trap, playing the other's game. “The whole reason we’re _in_ this relationship is because you wanted to suck my dick in a vault because you _are_ a fucking whore.”

“You’ve wanted to fuck me for months,” Octavio panted, breathless once again. They were both out of breath now from the effort of speaking while Taejoon chased release, unrelenting in the pace of his thrusts. He wanted to finish soon, wanted to cum inside the other, fill him up and then leave him fucking dry on this stupid goddamned rock to take care of himself, because Taejoon wasn't doing this for _him_. Even if he was doing what Octavio had wanted, he was doing it because he was _angry_ , and the least Octavio could do right now was take his cock without complaint.

He'd never felt so angry before, and when fingers slid into his hair, pulling him close to Octavio’s face, the mixed heat of fury and arousal inside Taejoon reached its peak.

“I know you think of me when you touch your cock,” it was Octavio’s turn to growl, an inch from his face, lips so _close,_ and Taejoon was struck by the familiar thought of making him _shut the hell up_ by fucking his mouth. “I know you _want_ me, Taejoon Park.”

The way the other man said his name made him moan, embarrassingly loud. He couldn’t feel anything else right now, not the rock beneath his knees, the wind blowing through his hair, or the spraying mist of the sea. All he could feel was Octavio’s pussy clenching around his cock, the wet heat so _fucking_ good, even in the midst of his resentment.

When Taejoon came he kissed Octavio, pressing their lips together in order to keep himself from moaning or shouting too loudly. He kept thrusting into him, riding out his orgasm until the haze faded away, and he became painfully aware of how fishy it smelled outside, and how rough the cliff was on his knees. He pulled out of Octavio, sitting back on his haunches as he took several breaths of salty air, every nerve of his on fire.

He reached over for his belt after a while, and realized as he was putting it on that, at some point, Octavio’s shorts had fallen off the side of the rock and become lost to the sea. He got to his feet a little unsteadily, knees popping, and looked down at the man before him. 

Octavio’s arms were thrown over his face, and he could see a dozen or so tiny scratches and scrapes on his arms from where his skin had rubbed against the rough rock. Cum pulsed slowly from his dripping cunt, legs still spread wide, and his underwear, hanging loosely from one metal leg, was clearly damp from the water that had been splashing over the side. He was panting, skin flushed, and he thought distantly, in the back of his mind, that even in a state like this he was still unfairly pretty.

Taejoon finished adjusting himself in his pants before stepping over Octavio and climbing down the cliff, slipping and sliding on occasion from the wet rock. He realized as he reached the sand that the mist on his face was not mist at all, but rather that it had started to rain lightly at some point.

Octavio finally realized that he was leaving, and he watched the man turn over and cry out, voice scratchy,

“What about me?”

He only sounded half-angry, not too loud or like he actually cared that much. Maybe he realized that he was deserving of what he got.

“Your right hand functions perfectly fine," Taejoon said without looking back at him. Maybe he should be kinder to the man who now knew his identity, but his anger over the subject hadn’t quite faded, and he didn’t think it would any time soon. Leaving Octavio naked on the cliff, he walked back to the beach house and ignored Pathfinder attempting to hand him his tacos as he slammed the screen door shut behind him, stomping into the bathroom and taking a quick shower.

By the time he'd finished getting dressed his anger had faded away, leaving behind only an empty feeling as he heard the others wondering outside his door where Octavio had gone. Octavio was still nowhere to be found as Taejoon joined the others for dinner—Anita had made hamburgers tonight—though he didn't feel entirely present. Hadn't felt like he was _there_ for at least three hours.

Natalie kept trying to catch his eye, but he was afraid that if he looked at her she would be able to see what he'd just done on his face, and everyone else would realize the truth. His identity. 

It was a stupid thought, he knew, but he was stretched thin once again, and it only got worse when the screen door slammed shut and he heard Ajay yell,

" _Silva!_ The _hell_ happened?"

"I fell off a cliff." Octavio's response was cheeky, light-hearted. Like nothing had happened. "Maybe climbing wet rock with metal legs wasn't a good idea."

Taejoon glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Ajay examining Octavio's back, criss-crossed cuts and scrapes and bruises littering the back of his shoulders all the way down to the small peek of thigh his new green shorts revealed. He must've gone into town and gotten them so he wouldn't raise more questions showing up in his underwear.

"I can't do this all by myself," she groaned, lifting his shirt up to reveal even more injuries. "What a mess. Ya gonna give me a heart attack one day."

Her dark eyes slid over everyone sitting at the table, before they came to a rest on Taejoon. With a jolt, he realized that he was the only one with an empty plate, having finished quickly because of how little food he'd served himself.

"Kim," she said, and he focused his gaze on some point over her shoulder. "Come help me patch this fool up, will you?"

He got to his feet obediently, following the two of them into the bathroom as Ajay forced Octavio to sit on the edge of the tub before disappearing out the door, leaving the two of them alone. Taejoon considered just leaving Ajay to take care of it on her own, rationalizing it to himself that she was a trained professional and he was not, but before he could leave the room she was back, holding a small first-aid kit in her hands.

"I need ya to swab this over all his cuts, alright?" She told him as she handed him cotton balls and a brown bottle. "I've got the bandages, but we need to clean him up first."

"Okay," he said quietly, and sat with her next to Octavio on the edge of the bathtub, the three of them crowded onto it. He took Octavio's arm, dabbing every single cut he came across with a cotton ball as Ajay did the same. He was staring hard at the other man's bloodstained skin, avoiding having to look up at his face, not sure what he would do if they made eye contact. Not after what had just happened. Not after Octavio had found out.

The lower he and Ajay got on Octavio's skin the more exasperated she became, until she was groaning,

"Don't tell me I need to pull your pants down."

"Maybe," Octavio said, still light.

"You can finish up here, Kim," Ajay told him with a sigh, speaking across Octavio, before getting to her feet. "I'll be right back. Stay _put_ , Silva."

Taejoon discarded the bloodied cotton ball into the trashcan that had been pulled in front of them, wondering for a second if he should apologize for Octavio's injuries, but he didn't want to speak to him right now. Wasn't sure if he still felt anger or regret, didn't know if he even _would_ he able to speak to him without his voice wavering. Just knew that he was still not entirely present right now, mind drifting, buzzing.

He got to his feet silently and took two steps before Octavio said, "I'm not gonna tell anyone."

Taejoon swallowed, not addressing him, but not moving any further, either. Waiting for him to speak. To take it back, perhaps, say that he oughta tell everyone because of the way Taejoon had left him behind. He was being foolish, he knew, but the anxiety inside him was reaching its all-time high, and that distant anger was returning, crawling its way back to him.

Should he scream? Yell? Sob? Claw at his face, or Octavio's? Disappear again? Run away? _What_ was he supposed to do?

"You owe me, though," Octavio said, oblivious to his inner fight, and _there._ There it was.

You would think that at this point they would have moved past childish bets and IOU's, that their relationship had crossed some sort of threshold, for better or worse (undoubtedly the latter) back at the cliff—but Taejoon just found himself nodding as he moved sluggishly towards the door, feeling drunk.

"Okay," he said, before walking back down the hall and collapsing inside his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im fucking FREE!!!!!! no more dumb shipbait drama between crypto and wattson im FREEEEEEEE !!!!! now they can be gay friends :)
> 
> im sorry if. the last part is H becuz im not good at angry sex i just write it going " :( is this too mean" i promise theres going to be more sex next chap cuz this one was more plot heavy sowwyyyy


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi-ho here's your content warnings for the chap  
> -mentions of vomit  
> -mentions of in-game suicide i.e. dying to the ring  
> -mentions of crypto disassociating during sex  
> -mentions/fantasies of revenge porn [which i do not endorse at all just feel the need to put there SJDIWJDIEJEI]
> 
> srry if any of this feels off i was writing this while my mom and her husband speedrun a divorce in the next room

The rest of the beach trip passed without incident, and by that Taejoon meant he spent the whole week locked inside his room. Makoa occasionally tried to coax him outside, even promising him once that he’d learn how to make one of Taejoon’s favorite dishes if he came out and ate dinner with everyone else, but he just ignored the other man until he went away.

He spent the whole day staring at his computer, eyes drying and his temples pounding with a dull headache. He did eventually complete the changes to Hack's code, but only after two sleepless nights, avoiding everyone, even Natalie, like the plague.

He was still haunted by what had happened with Octavio, that he had been _foolish_ enough to basically allow it by not checking every nook and cranny before telling Natalie the truth, by not looking over his shoulder for any unwanted tails. He wondered what would have happened if he had just never come on this stupid trip—he might have never gotten around to speaking to her, but at least Octavio wouldn't know the _fucking_ truth.

Taejoon snuck out late on Thursday, tired of dealing with the deafening noise in his head. Everything inside the tiny town was closed save for a few bars, and he sat alone in one for the better part of three hours; drinking until his body loosened, losing the rigid feeling in his spine, before stumbling back to the resort, finally blessed with silence.

He didn’t make it into the actual house, though, passing out in a lounging chair on the deck, which was stupid of him. He woke up at some point in the early morning, mouth dry; he could somehow taste the ocean on his tongue. He gave a groan before rolling over to throw up over the side of the deck and onto the pavilion beneath the house, which was... _not_ his proudest moment.

Taejoon took a shower after that, trying to wash away the permanent icky feeling that seems to follow one after vomiting. By the time he stepped out, dressed in night clothes, his feet were practically dragging across the floor, body _begging_ him to sleep for the rest of the day—when he suddenly found himself face-to-face with Bloodhound out in the hall.

“ _Góðan daginn_ ," they greeted, casual, and he murmured something that vaguely resembled words as he pressed himself flat against the wall in order to slide past them. They touched his shoulder lightly before he could get very far, though, and when he looked back at them he saw their inquisitiveness in the tilt of their head.

“Would you like to go fishing with me?” They offered, and he stared at them, not sure if they were joking or not, before shaking his head. 

“I insist,” they said, and he could hear the command in their voice, now. Instantly on guard, he stared at them, searching for any small sign that they had _figured him out_ , but their mask obscured their face as always, and he was left with nothing but a distant sense of dread.

“... _Alrada_ ,” he said quietly, and they nodded in response before pushing past him. He watched them sit down on the couch in the living room, perched at the very edge as if prepared to move at a moment’s notice. He studied them for a moment, still looking for any sort of sign of what they had planned for him, but came up empty.

He went into his room to change into his boots, pulling on his jacket as well. As he searched for his knife, he tried to think of everything he knew about Bloodhound—mystery was a large part of their identity, so he didn’t know if they had any particular ties to the Syndicate...one part of him told him that no, they wouldn’t, their beliefs were placed in something higher than an organization like that...but he had learned to trust few, and he wasn’t sure where Bloodhound placed on his list yet.

He finally found his knife in the bag he’d brought, and hid it inside his pocket before stepping out into the living room.

“Let’s go,” he said quietly, and was still searching for signs even as they got to their feet. They held the screen door open for him, before walking down the white stairs. As he followed, they gestured along the beach, and he understood their meaning.

Falling into step beside them, but a safe couple feet apart, he watched them out of the corner of his eye. The sun was rising over the horizon, glinting gold off the water and illuminating their goggles in an almost ominous fashion. As they walked across the sand, they left two sets of footprints behind them. There was no wind today to cover their tracks. Not yet, at least. 

Realizing that they were swiftly approaching the cliff he and Octavio had been on the other day, he averted his gaze and kept his eyes trained on the sand in front of him. His shoulders were tensed, and, feeling anxious, he ended up breaking the silence first.

“What did you need?”

“I am not going to threaten you, so you may remove your hand from your weapon,” Bloodhound said, but he didn’t do as they said. “Or not, if that is what you choose. You are not in trouble.”

Why was he getting the same feeling he did whenever he was being scolded by Mystik?

Bloodhound suddenly came to a stop, and he stopped with them, fixing them with a look. His back was facing the sea wall, which made him feel a little uncomfortable. He felt as though he was being cornered.

They seemed to study him for a moment, impassive thanks to their mask, before holding their arm out, the gesture they normally did whenever they were calling for their bird. They never made any noise when they did that, so he wondered how the raven knew to come to them.

The bird—Artur, if he was remembering correctly—approached from behind him, flapping right over his head in a flash of gray.

Wait... _gray_?

Taejoon stared at the bird, Octavio’s shorts clutched tightly in its beak, and his face grew hot when Bloodhound took them from the bird before handing them to him. He stared at the article of clothing, nonplussed, before finally managing to stutter out,

“Why are y-you...”

“I would like you to give these back to Octavio,” they said simply. “I believe these are his.”

“Why me?” His voice got sharper as he still refused to take the shorts, because _what the fuck_. “Why can’t you give them to him _yourself_?”

“I believe you are aware that I am a tracker,” Bloodhound said, and he tried not to meet their goggles lest he see his reddening expression reflected back at him. “Artur brought me these the other night, and I wondered how, exactly, Octavio had lost them.”

“...And?” He said, meaning for it to come across as impatient, but it sounded rather weak. 

“To make a long story short, felagi, Artur led me to this cliff, which was covered in his blood.” They gave a short cough. “Along with...something else. I remember overhearing that you were headed to this very spot, so I put two and two together. I figured it would be less awkward if you gave them to him rather than I.”

Taejoon kind of wanted to die.

He stared at their outstretched hand, wondering if it would be less shameful to turn his back on them and walk away or take the shorts. He could deny it, say that the blood and stuff was _completely_ unrelated to him, that Octavio had fallen off a _different_ cliff, but there weren’t many around, and his silence was probably indicative of his own role in all this.

He then found himself wondering if their intentions were to humiliate him or if they _really_ thought it would be less awkward this way.

“Well, there is another reason I led you here,” Bloodhound said, letting their hand drop to their side, still holding Octavio’s clothes. “I also figured that that night is why you refuse to come out of your room.”

“I appreciate your concern, but can I please go back to the house,” Taejoon mumbled, voice barely higher than a whisper. 

“If there is anything you need, do not be afraid to ask.” They turned their head to look at their bird, which gave a caw. “They are not bad people. And Octavio may be difficult, but he is not one to turn on his friends.”

“Right,” Taejoon said, staring down at his own feet again. “Are you done?”

They held their hand out towards him once more. He took a deep breath before taking Octavio’s shorts from them without looking up.

“Also, I am making plokkfiskur for dinner,” they added after a short stretch of silence. “I would like you to try it.”

Taejoon turned away from them. “Goodbye.”

So Bloodhound knew about them, now. They knew they were involved in some way, shape, or form, knew that they had been on this cliff together shortly after he had been on it with Natalie. Too many people had discovered his secrets lately, and as the pastel resort grew closer all he could think of was how much he wanted to go into hiding again.

When he got back to the house he overheard Ramya complaining about how ‘ _some bloody sod threw up on the fucking pavement_ ’, and climbed up the stairs quietly as to not get her attention. He went inside, passed by Witt and Loba in the living room, who told him ‘ _good morning_ ’, though he didn’t respond.

He entered Octavio’s room without knocking. The other man was inside, hanging upside down on his bed and staring blankly at his phone. From what Taejoon could see, he was still covered in band-aids.

When the other man noticed him standing in the doorway a wide grin split his face.

 _“Buenos días,_ pretty b—wait, are those my shorts? Where did you get th—”

Taejoon threw them into his face, mumbling ‘ _don’t ask_ ’, before slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

New season, new Legend, which meant another person he had to research, though he had his work cut out for him this time around, as the disappearance of Mary Somers was one of the greatest mysteries of the past century, and he knew her life story by heart. He’d come up with a conspiracy of his own when he was a child, though Mila had told him that it was stupid. Looking back on it, she was right.

New arena, too. Octavio’s hometown. 

There was something _different_ about Octavio in Olympus, something he couldn't quite place his finger on, but he honestly didn't care enough to delve deeper into whatever issues the other man was going through. He had his own problems, like the fact that Bloodhound knew about them and Octavio knew about _him_ and Natalie...

He'd spoken to her one of the first nights back, out on the rooftop of the dropship, engines whirring beneath them. It lifted yet another small weight off his chest as she promised to keep everything a secret for him, but he still found himself glancing furtively over his shoulder every couple of seconds to make _sure_ Octavio hadn't followed him this time.

When Octavio invited him over their first weekend of the new season he spent most of his time with him not exactly _there_. They had sex like nothing had happened between them over the break, no mentions of real names or injuries, but Taejoon spent most of it zoned out, and only came to whenever he did finally orgasm, though he only did so because Octavio jerked him off. If it had not been for that, he wasn’t sure if he would even have been in the right mindset to maintain an erection long enough on his own.

Octavio didn't notice, either because he didn't care or was too caught up in whatever problems Olympus was bringing him—or so he had thought.

On Sunday Taejoon came over again, though he didn’t even remember getting into bed with Octavio. Just knew that one moment he was knocking on his door and the next he was staring up at the ceiling, naked and feeling strangely sticky.

He looked over at Octavio, who was naked as well, sitting up with his sheets half-draped over his lower body. He was scrolling through social media on his phone, oblivious to him for now. His hair was pushed back, which Taejoon thought made him look really hot, even if he'd never admit it. He studied Octavio's side profile for a moment, the slope of his nose, the freckles and moles dotting his face, his piercings. All things he was familiar with, knew like the back of his hand after these past few months together.

Octavio finally noticed him staring, thumb hovering over his screen before he was turning his head to make eye contact with him. There was a pause as they stared at one another, Octavio giving him a blank look he'd never really seen before. He didn't know if maybe Octavio wasn't entirely _there_ like he had been, or if he had simply just caught him off-guard.

“Hey,” Octavio finally said, giving him a grin that stretched the scar above his lip, and Taejoon lost his previous train of thought. “You fell asleep.”

“Oh.” Taejoon sat up, that increasingly familiar tired feeling settling deep within his bones. Despite the fact that they were both acting as if everything between them was normal, that nothing had changed, it just _wasn’t_. Everything felt _off_ , and his mind kept drifting to the fact that Octavio _knew_ , and, at any moment, his life could end.

He slid his hand through his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath as he tried to keep himself from spiraling again. The anger he’d felt during the trip hadn’t come back yet, that empty feeling still trailing after him, which he supposed was for the better. He felt distant pangs of guilt every time he saw Octavio’s scars, which had all mostly healed up by now, though he kept discovering thin white lines on his tanned skin that he knew must be from the cliff; a ghostly reminder of the rage that had led to him not _caring._

Maybe Octavio was obnoxious and infuriating, and maybe he enjoyed killing him in the Games every now and then whenever he got on his nerves, but the anger that had blindsided him that afternoon was something he never wanted to experience again. Rage mixed with fear that he probably should have dealt with privately, but instead he saw an opportunity to take it out on Octavio, and so he had. Pent-up frustration from years of hiding, of being on the run, and now that Octavio _knew_ he felt that it had been fair to leave him on that cliff, to inflict as much pain as he could just so that he himself could feel _something_.

He still hadn't apologized. Didn't know if he _should,_ if Octavio would laugh him off or not. He couldn't even tell if Octavio was that bothered by it, because Octavio was strangely good at acting like things were fine. He hadn't once brought up Taejoon's identity in the past two weeks.

The mattress creaked between them, and he felt Octavio crawling towards him before he actually saw him. He stiffened when he felt the younger man wrap his arms around his neck, pressing close to him from behind. They were both still naked, and Taejoon became acutely aware of this fact when he felt Octavio’s chest press flush against his back.

“You’re being fucking weird,” Octavio told him, and then, as if reading his mind, continued with, “Look, if this is about you being, like, on the run from the government or whatever—”

“Shut up,” Taejoon groaned, trying to pull himself away from him, but Octavio's grip remained surprisingly firm.

“I already _said_ I wasn’t going to tell anyone,” Octavio finished, then waited, like, two seconds for Taejoon to speak, before going on. “I really don’t care. _Honest_. It’s actually kinda hot.”

“You’re insufferable,” Taejoon told him, sliding his hand through his hair again.

"I try my best." Octavio's fingers tapped rhythmically against his chest, because he could never stop moving. "So. What's wrong?"

"Why do you _care_?" 

"Sex isn't fun if you're thinkin' about something," Octavio said. He pressed somehow even closer to Taejoon, and he suddenly felt a little hot from their close contact. "So tell me what it is before I kick you out. I have a stream today."

Taejoon gave a deep exhale, not quite a sigh, before finally admitting, “I just...have a lot on my mind.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Octavio’s chin now resting on his shoulder, which was..strangely intimate, and left Taejoon feeling weird. He wanted to say _something_ to him, but didn’t know what, if he could even gather the words he needed to express how he felt. How he and Octavio weren’t _friends_ , but Octavio was getting dangerously close to...

To _what_ , exactly? He knew his name, they had sex every week, ate dinner together sometimes—he was becoming wary of the fact that Octavio seemed to think that they _something_ , that Taejoon was _someone_ that he wasn’t. But he didn’t know if that made sense outside of his head, and he hated having these sorts of talks with Octavio, with _anyone_ , really.

He had told Natalie the truth, as far as he could push it before that anxiety took hold of him again. He didn’t think he would ever tell Octavio, but he was afraid that the other would try to _dig_. Should he nip it in the bud before they reached that point, put an end to this arrangement of theirs, or keep going, push it further, as far as this would take them until it got dangerous?

Would Octavio tell others his identity if Taejoon broke it off with him? It wasn’t like he could do something to the other man, couldn’t kill him or do away with him in some other manner, because Bloodhound _knew_ they were connected now and they could point a finger in his direction. 

Those were the types of thoughts that had been haunting Taejoon all week, and now he felt them bubbling in his throat, the need to say something, _anything_.

Octavio spoke first, unable to wait in silence for too long.

“Well, what do you wanna do about it, huh? Want me to suck you off?” A hand trailed down his chest, before stopping at his stomach. “Or no sexy stuff, maybe. Wanna watch a movie? Play a video game? I’ve got a _sweet_ PC, with like, LEDs and all that.”

“Octavio,” Taejoon said, and the other man shut up, before pulling away from him and scooting so that they were now sitting side-by-side on the bed. “You’ve already said you won’t tell anyone, but—”

“Okay, here we go,” Octavio groaned, rolling his eyes before Taejoon could even finish speaking. “I know what you’re about to say. _‘We’re not friends, I don’t want you prying in my business, you’ve got a sweet ass though so we can keep doing this just stay out of my business’._ There. Did I get it right?”

Taejoon shoved him off the bed.

Octavio sat unfazed on the floor, staring up at him with a weirdly eager expression. “Did I get it _right_ , though?”

Taejoon glared at him, one part annoyed and another part relieved that Octavio at least already knew what he was going to say. Perhaps the other man understood better than he thought he did.

But was he really going to follow through on that? Octavio had been fairly good at not sticking his nose into Taejoon’s business beyond the occasional obnoxious question, but would that change after what he had overheard? What if he wanted to know more about the people after Taejoon, or why? 

He hadn’t even told Natalie about Mila. Didn’t think he was ready to tell _anyone_ about Mila, because now that he knew she was alive he was terrified that by just saying her name he would, somehow, alert the Syndicate. Like her name was taboo.

Octavio leaned forward suddenly, resting his elbows on top of Taejoon’s knees, and for a brief moment his heart hammered in his chest, prepared for Octavio to push, to _pry_.

Instead, what Octavio said was, “Oh, yeah, you owe me, remember?”

Taejoon gnawed on his lower lip, wondering if he should allow the change in subject or push them to keep talking about this, before sighing out, “What do I owe you?”

Octavio grinned, and he felt a strange sense of anticipation. “ _Muchas gracias_ for asking, pretty boy.”

He watched the shorter man crawl around the other side of the bed, before reaching under it and pulling out a box. He watched him pull out a number of things—two knives, an unopened bag of Doritos, a pack of rubber bands—before pulling out something bright pink. It took Taejoon a moment to recognize it, but when he did, he felt a familiar spark of heat in his gut.

“A vibrator?” He asked and Octavio nodded. “...Okay?”

“Basically,” and here Octavio fished the remote out of the box, “I’m gonna stick this up your ass.”

Taejoon waited for him to continue, because there was no way that _that_ was the end of it. Octavio just stared at him, rocking on his knees in anticipation, so Taejoon sighed again and asked, “ _And_?”

“And you’re gonna wear it in the Ring and I’m gonna have the remote.”

“No,” Taejoon said immediately.

“C’mon!” Octavio climbed back onto the bed towards him, still grinning, clearly excited. “You _owe_ me, and this is my hometown. We gotta defile it somehow.”

“There will be _people_ around me,” Taejoon said, though his skin was already starting to flush at the idea. Hadn’t he been spiraling just a few minutes ago?

“Which is why I want you to do this _tomorrow_ ,” Octavio said. There was a pink tint to his skin too, and Taejoon wondered just how excited he was by this prospect. “Duos are on Monday, so that’s less people you’ll be around, and you can just...not pick up your teammate's banner when they die. Then you’ll be alone!”

Taejoon stared at Octavio, biting the inside of his cheek.

“So you want me to have a vibrator inside me—”

“Yup.”

“—in the middle of a match—”

“That’s right.”

“—and throw the game so that you can do this to me?”

“See, you’re a smart guy! You got it.”

“There will be _people_ around me,” Taejoon stressed again, and Octavio groaned. “You can use it on me, whatever, but does it have to be _tomorrow_?”

“It’s hotter that way,” Octavio said, before leaning close to him, and Taejoon was once again reminded of the fact that they were both naked. “You, at my mercy—shit, that'll be hot as fuck, won't it?"

He swallowed heavily as Octavio waited for a response, trying not to look at him for too long, trying not to _think_ about Octavio controlling the vibrator from a distance, watching him fall apart. Tried to ignore the way his cock was twitching with interest, because even though this was a _terrible_ idea, getting caught in public had long since become the least of Taejoon's worries.

Octavio switched tactics when he didn't respond quickly enough.

"Pleeeeeease, Hyeon—can I call you Hyeon?—I’ll only do it when your teammate dies I promiiiiiiise and also you owe me because I’m covered in scars and my shorts smell like fish forever now and—”

Taejoon closed his eyes, counting to ten as Octavio kept whining, latched onto his arm now. He knew that Octavio would keep bugging him about it until he gave in, or find something _worse_ to do to him, so after a long moment of internal debate, still trying to ignore the heat between his legs, he said,

“Fine.”

He grabbed Octavio’s wrist before he could celebrate much, turning to make eye contact with him. “But then _you’ll_ owe me.”

“This is already an IOU,” Octavio pointed out.

“Breaking the predetermined rules of this arrangement results in an IOU, and the rule we set was _outside the Games._ ” Him cashing in on the IOU would probably just be him demanding a week of silence from Octavio, but he didn’t need to know that just yet. Octavio was staring at him blankly.

“The prede-what.”

Taejoon got to his feet, feeling more normal by this point. “Nevermind.”

Octavio scrambled after him, metal legs squeaking as he asked, “So that’s a yes, right?!”

“ _Yes_ ,” Taejoon huffed, picking up his discarded briefs and beginning to pull them on. Octavio let out a laugh at that, before his voice dipped low as he said,

“I can’t wait to have fun with you.”

He said those words in that honey-like tone that Taejoon was growing familiar with, and he felt anticipation thrum inside him as he thought about it—being at Octavio’s mercy throughout the match, just like he had felt this past week, with the fact that the other man _knew_ hanging over his head, though this was decidedly hotter.

He was glad they were moving past that, that nothing had _really_ changed and Octavio understood the boundary drawn between them, but he still couldn’t help but fear what tomorrow had in store for him.

* * *

Taejoon was placed with a random the next day, and his conversation with Octavio really _had_ helped ease his tension, because he found himself snapping at others like he normally would.

He was already familiar with this new arena, knew every nook and cranny, the location of every camera and where the high tier loot was, so he pinged a spot for he and his teammate to drop without speaking a single word to her.

Another reason for his shortness today was the fact that he had a fucking vibrator inside him, dormant, because Octavio was holding true to his promise so far—he would only activate it when Taejoon was _alone_. He watched the other man lean close to Taejoon’s teammate, asking her her name casually. She answered with a stutter, face flushing at their proximity, though Taejoon knew _why_ he was doing it—his boyfriend was going to watch the kill feed, impatiently waiting for her name to show.

Now he prepared for the drop, some spot a little ways out from Oasis with fairly good loot. Taejoon planned to get as far into the game as he could before letting his teammate die, not wanting to subject himself to Octavio for too long, so he had picked somewhere within a fair distance of the action but still far enough to run somewhere safer.

“Get prepared,” he told his teammate, and she nodded, strapping her goggles on. The bell went off, and he watched other teams begin to drop, seeing half the lobby launch towards the Gardens. Their dropping point was on the other side of the arena, and as they got closer he could see his teammate bouncing with anticipation.

He finally motioned for her to follow him, before stepping off the ship and allowing himself to fall. The sickening feeling of it had faded away long ago, back on Talos, after only a few times of doing it. Now all he felt was a brief burst of adrenaline as he rocketed towards the ground, feeling his jumpkit vibrate between his shoulder blades. He’d heard others comment that it was strange he chose to wear it there rather than on his waist, but he felt that it was easier to steer and change directions, requiring only subtle shifts of his shoulders rather than the larger movements of his whole torso.

His teammate broke off from him to land close to where he had pinged, but still a fair distance from him so that she wasn’t practically on top of him. He glanced up at the sky, taking note of the fact that two other squads had landed in Oasis, though a lone dive trail that didn’t belong to him or his teammate was about fifty feet in front of him, behind a building. Someone had broken off from their partner and landed with them.

(“How am I supposed to run?” Taejoon demanded, on his hands and knees, as Octavio spread him open with his fingers. They were in the locker room at the crack of fucking dawn; Taejoon had offered himself to Octavio several times, even said they could have sex in the showers, but Octavio was adamant about their original plan, so there they were.

“Just don’t think about it,” Octavio said simply, and Taejoon’s breath hitched when his fingers grazed his prostate, light. Enough to send a pleasant buzz up his spine. He let out a long, slow exhale, trying to ignore his own anticipation thrumming beneath his skin. The same anticipation he’d felt that night at the resort, an almost... _desire_ to get caught. He didn’t know where it had come from, just knew that he probably had Octavio to blame.

Octavio worked the vibrator into him, Taejoon gritting his teeth as he did so, praying that it wouldn’t lie directly on his prostate. When Octavio was finished he gave Taejoon’s ass a pat and said, “There.”

“I hate you.” Taejoon felt like he had to get that out there one last time, and Octavio responded by reaching into his pocket and switching on the remote. It was a low setting, but the sudden vibration inside him still made him gasp involuntarily.

“You don’t hate me," Octavio said, and he didn’t like the look the other man had on his face. "Not _yet._ ")

Running proved to not actually be that difficult, as long as Taejoon kept his focus on the game at hand and not the fact that there was something inside him. He jogged around the corner, scooping up an R-99 and switching the mag with the extended one he’d gotten from a supply bin. He could hear footsteps, though he didn’t know if they were his teammate’s or someone else’s.

“Pretty sure there’s a squad on us,” he said in a low voice, and his teammate gave a nervous chuckle.

“You can respawn me if I die, right?”

“Only if you’re good enough,” he said, and he heard her swallow nervously. The truth was he wouldn’t be respawning her regardless, but better to plant the idea in her head that he wasn’t going to respawn her for one reason rather than...another. 

“Well, I think if I’m given a fighting chance, I’ll—Octane!” She squealed in his ear, and he felt his stomach drop. Racing up the steps of the building he was in, he emerged on the roof of a building just in time to see Octavio shoot her down. He’d soared into the air using his jump pad, stim jammed into his chest and Wingman in hand. His teammate was groaning in pain, but she wasn’t dead yet.

Taejoon stared, dumbfounded, as Octavio dropped a grenade in front of her and said something to the effect of, “Nothing personal.”

Her name showed up in the kill feed, and Taejoon was now solo. Octavio turned his head, looking over his shoulder at him, before giving him a thumbs-up and then stepping onto his jump pad, flying towards Oasis. Taejoon regained himself at the last moment, shooting at him furiously, but using an R-99 from this distance meant that he missed all his shots.

His face heated up as he realized just _what_ Octavio had done—solo-dropped so that he could kill Taejoon’s teammate, leaving him alone for the rest of the match, which meant that—

The vibrator came to life inside him, and Taejoon nearly dropped his R-99, sure that his cheeks were a deep red now. _Ssibal_.

Taking a deep breath, Taejoon kept looting through the buildings as his teammate pinged her banner until the timer ran out, which meant that she was no longer able to spectate him. He found a Mastiff in a supply bin, trying to ignore the feeling inside him as he picked it up. He could keep his composure, he was sure. All he had to do was think of the vibrator as little more than an annoying fly, and then when the game was over he would find Octavio and...

As if reacting to his thoughts, the vibrations strengthened, and he grit his teeth, keeping his curses to himself. His cock was already filling out in his pants, blood rushing south as his thoughts strayed into filthy territory. With a huff he reached into his pocket, subtly adjusting himself in his pants through his jacket so that nobody could see. 

The gunfire from Oasis had long since faded by the time he was fairly stocked up on health and ammo, and he crouched low in the corner of a building in order to send his drone out, intending on scouting the area to make sure nobody was coming his way. This change in position made things worse for him, however, and he bit on his lower lip as he let his head fall between his knees for a second, taking a deep breath.

He’d never used a vibrator before, wasn’t quite expecting it to rile him up so much already, but it was close to his prostate and even if it wasn’t directly touching it, it was enough for him to feel like he was about to burn up from the inside. 

Taejoon slid his fingers through his hair, taking several deep breaths to compose himself, knowing that he couldn’t afford to show an outward reaction as his cock twitched in his pants. Cameras were trained on him, and even if he wasn’t being broadcasted at this moment, he could be at some point. Solo Legends were often a point of interest.

He could choose to play passively this game so that the cameras would grow bored of him, or he could rush into a fight to die early so that he wouldn’t have to deal with this for long—but then that would mean the cameras would _definitely_ follow him, and someone was bound to take notice of his flushed skin and straining cock.

He stood straight again, deciding on the former strategy. He _could_ maybe just kill himself, throw grenades straight down at his feet and deal with this _outside_ of the game, but Octavio would see his name in the kill feed and know that he had done this to himself, and then...

Then what? The other man would definitely pick something worse for him, or try to make him do this tomorrow in _Trios_. Taejoon would have to put up with it for now. 

He was definitely going to kill Octavio when he saw him, though.

He scanned for the next Ring, saw that it encompassed the Estates and Hydroponics, and figured that he should make his way there. He wouldn’t go straight for the Autumn Estates, however, knowing that that was a high point of contention and he should play it safe by skirting around it for now.

By the time Taejoon set out for the Turbine to take the long way around, the vibrator had ramped up in its intensity, every movement making it brush against that spot inside him. His pants felt uncomfortably tight, and as he walked through the tunnels around the Turbine he found himself thinking of just what, exactly, he would do to Octavio once he caught him.

Kill him, definitely, but maybe take his frustrations out on him first. Pull his pants down, see that dripping cunt of his, fuck into his wet heat and then—

Taejoon hissed as he slid to his knees, grabbing his cock through his pants as the heat pooling in his belly became torturously pleasurable. He didn’t know if he wanted to cum or not, didn’t want to stain his pants but was also already starting to crave release, the vibrator’s strength intensifying until he was sure that it was at its highest setting. 

Taejoon bent over himself, acting as though he had accidentally hurt his knee, though doing his best to hide his erection from view of the cameras. He could already feel precum staining the inside of his pants, and fuck, he was so _close_ , he was sure, despite little contact with his cock, and it was all because of the stupid vibrator. 

Just as this thought crossed his mind, the thing inside him died down, leaving him groaning. He was one part grateful, glad that he was no longer on the edge, but being pushed so close only for it to be taken away left him feeling painfully aroused. 

He grit his teeth as he staggered to his feet, before facing the wall and holding up two fingers. Some stupid hand signal the Legends were told to do if they ever needed a moment, given to them after Witt had spent an entire match subtly trying to adjust himself in the pants of his winter outfit. It let the broadcasters know to cut the cameras on their location for a moment as they fixed an uncomfortable bra strap, or something.

Maybe that would seem silly to viewers, but Taejoon was grateful for it due to the athleticism the Games required, and he was especially grateful for it now as he unbuttoned his pants while facing the wall, biting hard on his tongue as he adjusted himself in his pants to make his erection appear less obvious.

He missed his sweatpants in this situation, knew he could have simply tucked himself beneath his waistband if he was wearing them, but he was wearing _leather pants_ and god why was he such a fucking idiot.

Taejoon looked down at himself and saw that thanks to the length of his jacket, it was hard to see the situation in his pants. Hopefully the vibrator would stay off long enough for him to soften, and then...

And, of course, because the universe and especially Octavio hated him, it was on again.

A pathetic moan pushed past his lips, and Taejoon bit hard on his tongue to keep himself from making any more noises. It was so fucking _close_ to his prostate, making heat claw up his spine almost violently, a constant reminder that it was _there_ and it wasn’t going away any time soon. He resisted the urge to press himself against the wall in front of him, move his hips needily to feel _something_.

He swore he could hear people near him, so he sent out his drone to scout, not because he wanted to fight but because he needed to get the _fuck_ away from them. Another pair was in the tunnels, coming in from the Rift, and he recalled his drone as he changed directions to head straight for the Estates, not wanting to be caught like this.

Every movement was like torture to Taejoon, sweat dripping down the side of his face as he kept his teeth clenched, breathing getting shorter as he fought back the urge to reach into his pants and jerk himself off. He didn’t care if he came into his pants at this point, just wanted the arousal clinging to him to go _away_ , leave him in peace and stop filling his head with white noise.

He was stumbling, he knew, as he got closer to the Estates, thighs shaking as the vibrator got more intense. He was gonna cum, _fuck,_ he was on the edge and it felt good, overwhelmingly so, the light in the sky blinding and all he wanted to do was squeeze his eyes shut and let himself succumb to the pleasure.

Then it was pulling back, leaving him crying out audibly. He came to a stop on the bike path, resting his elbow on the wall with its flashing advertisements, out of breath. He was _so_ going to kill Octavio, but first he wanted, no, _needed_ him to fuck him, drive his cock into him and fuck him until all he could think of was...

Wait, fuck, _no_ , he wasn’t supposed to be thinking of shit like that, that would make it _worse_ and the ache in his groin was painful enough. He crouched beside some bicycle racks and sent out his drone again, resisting the urge to reach between his legs and palm himself. Saw that there were no squads in the area, before pocketing his drone remote and stumbling his way towards the cluster of houses.

Taejoon didn’t even know what the hell he was doing, now, his earlier plans having slipped his mind and leaving nothing but a faded imprint.

Was he supposed to be finding a place to hide out for the rest of the match? What if he just bit the bullet and died to the Ring instead, and take whatever punishment Octavio had in store for him? What was he even going to make Octavio owe him, anyway, he had been thinking of making the other man leave him _alone_ but now all he could think about was Octavio’s hot mouth on him, swallowing, throat bobbing until Taejoon came into his mouth and _fuck, stop thinking about him you fucking idiot._

He fought back those thoughts, head swimming as he forced himself to move, the vibrator back on and he couldn’t even recall when that had happened. The arousal in him was burning, couldn’t feel anything but it, not even the wind against his face or the ground beneath his feet. Every step with his leaden legs left him feeling as though any moment could be his last, though at this point he didn’t even know if he was thinking in terms of his death or his orgasm.

Taejoon came to a stop in front of the sign for the Estates, golden letters staring back at him as he tried to catch his breath, tried to think straight. Why was he here? Why the fuck had he come here? Had he been trying to get somewhere? 

He remembered, suddenly, that one of these buildings did not have a camera inside. An oversight, he supposed, as the houses were all identical and the crew must have forgotten which ones did and didn’t have cameras. Maybe that was why he had come here. He couldn’t remember, right now. His head felt fuzzy, and he was trembling, every vibration sending a shudder of arousal up his spine.

The vibrator stopped again as he made his way towards that particular building, and by the time he collapsed to the floor inside it he was sure that he wasn’t going to be able to make it another round, he wanted, _needed_ , to cum. Taejoon crawled away from the door, thighs shaking. He was sure that sweat was soaking through his shirt, his hair felt damp with it, and when he touched his cock through his pants he let out a low, pathetic whine.

 _Fuck_ , when he found Octavio, he was going to fuck him, or _beg_ to be fucked, one or the other, he didn’t care. He just wanted to cum, pushed to his limit as his hips bucked into his hand, the tiniest amount of friction relieving to him after the past twenty or so minutes. 

His cock felt hot and heavy between his legs, his tongue resting on his lower lip as he gyrated his hips down against the floor, which was something but it wasn't _enough._ He unbuttoned his pants with shaking hands, breath getting heavier, before forcing himself to _stop_ , telling himself that getting caught with them down would not be ideal. But his cock was drooling, a dark stain against the leather, and he knew if he didn’t cum soon he was going to do something drastic. 

Taejoon braced his hand on the edge of the low bed that was in the middle of the house, panting as he considered his options. The vibrator was dormant inside him for now, and he felt like he had until it came back on to decide what the hell he was going to do.

Die? Should he allow himself to fall victim to the Ring or his own grenades, or should he swallow what little pride he had left and allow himself to come undone, and _fuck,_ he wanted a cock so badly right now, wanted something to fill him to his breaking point so he didn't have to think about the Syndicate, the algorithm, _anything_.

After only a moment of deliberation he managed to lift one leg up onto the bed, half-straddling it with his other knee still flat on the ground. This position left his cock pressed against the bed at such an angle that when he moved his hips his head fell forward, a breathy moan escaping him because it felt so fucking _good_.

Taejoon laid there for a second, panting, as the small part of him that had remained logical throughout this whole thing tried to speak to him, tell him to get the _fuck_ over it, think of something, _anything_ that wasn’t cock, but the heat pooling in his gut won out and he clutched onto the bed more tightly, moving his hips in order to rut against the bed. 

It felt juvenile, _humiliating_ , but also so _good_ at the same time, relieving friction against his cock that made him whine desperately. His fingers curled, nails digging into the wooden frame of the bed as he thrusted needily, involuntary _oh’_ s escaping him, noises that only got louder when the vibrator finally buzzed to life for the fourth time. 

Taejoon squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cry out as it pulsed against his prostate, electricity taking hold of him, every movement of his jerky and desperate as he kept humping the bed like a teenager. Imagined Octavio here with him, fingers curling inside him, or otherwise stroking his cock. Imagined returning the favor to Octavio, vibrator inside him while Taejoon had the remote so that he was at his mercy instead.

He wondered if Octavio knew where he was, if he thought Taejoon was holding out just fine or if he was on the floor like he was now, a needy mess on the verge of cumming. His knee dug into the wooden floor as he kept moving his hips, cock twitching in his pants as he slowed his thrusts just a little, trying to catch his breath as the vibrations grew stronger. 

_Fuck,_ his orgasm was near, he could practically taste it, could practically taste _Octavio_ in his mouth as his thoughts kept straying to him. He buried his burning face into his arms, thrusting his cock up against the edge of the bed as the relentless vibration against his prostate made him see stars.

When he finally came he let out a shout that echoed, being in such close proximity to the wall surrounding the Estates. He could feel his cum pulsing slowly down his thigh, staining the inside of his pants and ruining his underwear. He kept moving his hips even after he came, desperately riding out the feeling after being denied it, over and over again. He was on autopilot, entire body humming, but he knew he had to stop at some point, regain himself and keep going so that when this game was over he could find Octavio and sit on his cock.

The heat in the air made him want to pass out, but what finally made Taejoon slow down was when he realized that he could hear footsteps around him. He went limp against the bed, panting face-down as he prayed that he hadn’t been heard, that if others found him they would assume he had been injured and wouldn’t look too closely at the stain on the front of his pants, or hear the vibrator still whirring inside him.

He was in no state to fight, could barely think straight, and his fingers curled harder into the wood as the footsteps approached.

“Yo, you go check out the opposite side,” he heard a familiar voice say, and another voice saying ‘okay’. He wondered if it was, perhaps, the universe that had orchestrated Octavio finding him in this position, or if Octavio had secretly been following him, keeping an eye on him and his movement from Oasis to the Turbine to here. He wouldn’t put it past him.

The door opened, and Taejoon didn’t look up. Just kept trying to catch his breath, still half-draped over the bed. The familiar squeak of metal joints approached him until fingers were threading through his hair, and he was being made to look up. 

He knew his face was red, and there were wet trails on his cheeks and at the corners of his eyes from his involuntary tears, as well as drool running down his chin. Knew he looked like a mess, so he felt something stir inside him when Octavio whistled and said,

“Wow. Hey, gorgeous.”

“ _Octavio_ ,” was all he was able to say, voice hoarse from holding back for so long. He couldn’t see Octavio’s face from behind his mask, didn’t know the expression he had. His head was forced to the side until he realized that Octavio was trying to get him off the bed, and he allowed himself to slide off so that both his knees were on the ground, now, breathing finally slowed back to almost-normal.

The vibrator inside him was cut off, and he let out an open whine as he knelt before Octavio, nails digging into the wood beneath him. His cock was half-hard in his pants again, and as he sat there, waiting to die, Octavio lifted his leg to press his metal foot against him, making him groan.

“What are you waiting for?” Taejoon managed to get out, the effort of speaking almost too much after what had just happened. 

"What are _you_ waiting for?" Octavio asked, pressing his foot harder onto his cock, and Taejoon's hips jerked involuntarily, pathetically.

"For you to kill me," Taejoon groaned, knowing he wouldn't be able to recover from this, that he was pushed past his limit and death was a mercy he wished to be granted.

“Beg for it,” Octavio said, and Taejoon swallowed heavily. He could still feel sweat beading down the side of his face, skin flushed permanently.

“ _Juseyo_ ,” he said, voice cracking, eyes trailing down to find the Wingman holstered at Octavio’s side. Wanted to get this _over_ with, wanted to wake up outside of this godforsaken arena and take his cock into his hands, jerk off until he was milked dry, _needed it_ after how much he’d been pushed today. “Please.”

“Please what?” Octavio asked, taking his foot off his cock, but Taejoon found himself missing the contact, leaning forward against his will even with the hand still gripping his hair.

“Kill me,” he begged, feeling heady so close to Octavio at this angle. The last time they’d been like this he’d pulled the other man’s pants down to take his cock into his mouth, almost wanted to do that now, wanted it almost as much as he wanted to die. “Please kill me.”

He wondered if Octavio was making him do this as revenge for what happened on the cliff. He probably deserved it, needed to find a way to make up for it, but for now all he wanted was to wake up in the respawn chamber.

Octavio unholstered his Wingman, crouching down in front of Taejoon with his hand still tight in his hair. He forced Taejoon’s head back to expose his throat, placing the barrel of his gun beneath his chin. He could hear Octavio’s teammate approaching, saying something about them being alone.

“Did you think of me when you came?” Octavio asked, so quiet he that almost thought that he had imagined it. He swallowed before nodding silently, heart pounding in his chest with anticipation. He waited for Octavio to pull the trigger, but it never came. 

Instead, the other man straightened up, letting go of his hair right as his teammate entered the building. 

“Hey, Octane, there’s nobody h—” The guy stopped, staring wide at Taejoon kneeling on the floor, face burning red at being seen in this state. He leaned forward, palms flat against the ground as he tried to think of something to say, but Octavio spoke before he could.

“Kill him,” Octavio commanded, and the vibrator came on again. Taejoon cried out, humiliation digging its claws into him as he heard the other guy approach. Watched Octavio’s metal legs disappear out of the corner of his eye, leaving him behind, before hearing the cock of a Peacekeeper from above him—and then the world went black. 

* * *

Taejoon spent the rest of the day in his own area on the dropship, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, and on Tuesday he had the pleasure of finding Octavio weaponless in the old Hammond lab and put a bullet between his eyes. It felt good to see his body drop. 

Octavio, though, seemed completely oblivious to his anger, still teasing him and talking to him after the match like nothing had happened, despite Taejoon doing his best to ignore him.

He was trying to come up with something to get back at Octavio with, entertaining many ideas, though he never could think of any that seemed harsh enough without pushing the boundaries of what was morally acceptable.

He considered tying him up and putting the vibrator inside him, letting him cum over and over until he was a sobbing mess, but Octavio would probably _enjoy_ that. He considered many other things, some that he wasn’t even entirely into, but if it would humiliate Octavio enough then it sounded good to him. 

He just wanted to get _back_ at him for that moment in the Estates. Didn’t care about the rest of it, didn’t care about the vibrator pushing him to the edge or the fact that he had ended up humping a fucking bed. All he could think of was Octavio making him beg for death only to step back and let that random kill him.

He wondered if the random had noticed his stained pants, flushed skin, the sweat drenching his forehead. Wondered if he could hear the buzz of the vibrator, could see Taejoon’s cock, hard again from Octavio’s actions. The drool at the corner of his mouth, the tear tracks on his cheeks. Wondered if he _knew._

 _Fuck_ , he thought to himself as he thrusted into his hand in the shower, boiling-hot water sluicing down his back as he tried to think of something to humiliate Octavio with, but how could he get back at a man who took everything in stride? Someone who _enjoyed_ being called names, enjoyed _pain_?

Taejoon bit into his forearm as he jerked off, fantasizing about extreme scenarios he knew he could never do in real life, like filming Octavio mewling on his cock and publishing it for the entirety of the Outlands to see. Would that be sufficient enough, or would Octavio enjoy that too? Probably _would_ , with his unceasing desire to get _caught_ , but Taejoon could imagine his flushed face and averted gaze. Humiliation was a good look on Octavio, and the closest he’d ever come to it was that time he’d made him beg for Taejoon to go faster when in that closet.

He came into his hand as he relived that memory, the way Octavio had sounded whining, telling him that his cock felt good, that he wanted Taejoon to cum inside him. 

_Fuck_.

Taejoon dressed himself inside his stall before walking back to his room on the dropship, though he slowed to a stop when he saw someone sitting on his chair. Octavio was his neighbor, and often invited himself into Taejoon’s room without ever asking for permission.

He approached the other man while his back was turned, before grabbing the chair roughly and spinning him so that they were facing each other, hissing out a “ _What._ ”

“Hey, bonito,” Octavio said cheerfully, like Taejoon wasn't three inches from his face and obviously ticked off with his being here. “I’ll make it quick, ‘cuz you look mad: wanna go out Friday?”

“No,” Taejoon said, before grabbing Octavio’s forearm roughly and pulling him out from his chair. “Get _out_.”

“Why not? You’re just gonna come back to my place anyways!” Octavio complained, and Taejoon shot him a glare over his shoulder, a silent warning to lower his voice before someone overheard. “I’m tired of ordering pizza.”

“What if I didn’t come over at all?” Taejoon asked, voice dangerously steady as he considered it for a moment. Punishing Octavio by cutting off ties with him. 

“Nah, you will,” the other man said. “You like my ass too much.”

That was true. Fuck. “I can go a week without you.”

Octavio arched an eyebrow. “Can you? You wanna test that theory?”

“I would _gladly_ test that theory,” Taejoon hissed, but Octavio wasn't listening to him, picking up his puzzle cube from his desk and examining it with interest. He snatched it away from the other man, feeling the need to be petty. "You owe me, remember?"

"Okay," Octavio said with a shrug, unbothered. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to leave me alone," he said, but took a step away from Octavio when the curtain that cut his room off from everyone else was ripped back, and Ramya poked her head inside. "Has anyone here heard of _knocking_?"

"You don't have a door," Ramya pointed out. "Tav, you convince him to come?"

"I was just about to ask him," Octavio lied easily, and Ramya blew a bubble with her gum, looking unimpressed. "Hyeon, wanna go out with me and the others Friday?"

Taejoon glared at him while Ramya waited expectantly, her foot tapping against the ground, before he crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "Who else is coming?"

"Nat," Ramya answered immediately. "Anita, Makoa, Loba if Anita can talk her into it. Renee if Nat can talk her into it. Witt's not invited. Ajay said she's busy, so she won't be there. New Lady said maybe she'll come if she finds the time."

Taejoon was prepared to say _no_ —that that was entirely too many people for him to feel comfortable around—but Octavio had taken a step closer to him, and he took an instinctive step back.

"If you come, I'll owe you double," Octavio said, hands behind his back and leaning heavily on one foot, the picture of innocence. "I'll do _whatever_ you want."

Ramya arched her slit brow, looking between the two of them with her lips pursed in question, though she held it back, waiting for Taejoon's response. He looked them both up and down, wondering if it would really be worth it, if Octavio would really even uphold his end of the bargain. He wanted to say _no_ because of what had happened in the Estates, and also because he wasn't comfortable around that many people, _especially_ now that so many of them knew _something_ about him, whatever that may be.

His fingers dug into his bicep as he made eye contact with Octavio. He was still trying to think of something to get back at him with, a way to get his revenge, but he was coming up empty for now. He probably won't even be this angry by the time Friday comes around, but what mattered is that he was angry _now_ and he couldn't keep giving in to whatever Octavio wanted.

The silence went on for so long that Ramya shifted on her feet and complained, "C'mon, mate, you're killin' me."

"...Fine," he finally said with great reluctance, and Ramya grinned, turning towards Octavio to give him a high five. She disappeared with a flash of her ponytail, and Taejoon turned his glare towards Octavio once again.

" _Out_ ," he said, and Octavio giggled, honestly giggled, as he took a step towards Taejoon, one after another, until he found himself backed up against the wall.

"Look, cariño, I know you're thinking of getting back at me for what happened on Monday," Octavio said, and Taejoon swallowed, focusing hard on some point over his shoulder. "Which is fair! But just think of it as...like...the law of equivalent exchange. You fucked up my back, and I made you beg for death. Even!"

"...Did you just reference _Fullmetal Alchemist?_ " Taejoon asked in disbelief, unable to maintain his glare.

" _Whatever_ , that's not the point. Yeah, I owe you, but let's agree to not hurt each other anymore." Octavio paused. " _Too much_ , at least."

"You made me _beg_ and then you had someone else kill me," Taejoon said, frustrated, and Octavio countered,

"You left me naked on a cliff with a fucked up back."

"That was _your_ fault, not mine," he argued, even if he still felt guilty for it. Octavio gave him those stupid puppy-dog eyes he did whenever he really wanted something, and he found himself groaning, "Okay, _fine_. No more pain. But you still _owe me._ "

"Glad we got that outta the way, then," Octavio said, reaching up to brush Taejoon's hair out of his face. He flinched away from his fingers. "'Cuz that was gonna lead somewhere I really don't wanna go."

The way he said that made Taejoon pause, unsure of how to respond. He didn't even know what it was, exactly, that rubbed him the wrong way, just knew that the way Octavio said it had thrown him off for a moment. Before he could say anything else, however, Octavio was pushing away from him like nothing had happened.

"See ya Friday," he said, winking. "Unless...I've got some shit to blow up, wanna join?"

"No," Taejoon said without the bite he'd had earlier, and Octavio shrugged.

"Suit yourself." And with that he was finally gone, leaving Taejoon staring at the spot he had once stood. He gnawed on his lower lip, before letting his shoulders slump in defeat as he sat on the edge of his bed. No more pain or revenge, Octavio had said, which was...fair, he supposed. His train of thought hadn't been healthy these past few days, and he was glad the other man had drawn the line in the sand before they could go too deep into it. 

Even if he _was_ still pissed off from what had happened, he wasn't going to pursue a way to get back at him. He had enough revenge on his plate, and besides, he was afraid that one day he'd go too far and Octavio would leak his identity as payback. 

Maybe playing nice with Octavio was the safer route for him to go down. Well, not _nice,_ per se, because they still weren't friends, but he could maybe try acting nicer to him.

He heard Octavio whoop from the next room, followed by a loud _BANG!_ and the cawing of Bloodhound's bird. He let his eyes slip shut as Revenant began cackling.

That might prove to be easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> srry if the ending was kinda eh its hard to write when ur parents r yelling all da time
> 
> less plot more porn this chap becuz i feel like last chap was too plot-y eugh
> 
> vibrator stuff in public is only sexy in fiction dont try this at home
> 
> jokes aside this chapter is for rio ! thanks for tipping me.... gay ass....
> 
> dont be afraid to leave comments ! i take suggestions as well ;3
> 
> EDIT : sorry for the noticeable dip in quality , im trying to edit every couple of days cuz i rushed this chapter cuz it was p/aid for and my home situation sux @-@


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